Found the Devil in Me
by Etaoin
Summary: Will Schuester and Quinn Fabray are kidnapped and tortured by a madman at the beginning of Junior year. The New Directions struggle to deal with the aftermath. AU after Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Found the Devil in Me**

**Rating: M (I'm not getting too graphic here but there will be mention of rape, torture, kidnapping, PTSD, and mental illness)**

**Spoilers: Not really...AU after season 1. **

**Pairings: Mention of Quinn/Finn, Quinn/Will, Quinn/Puck, Santana/Brittany, Emma/Will, Terri/Will, and Finn/Rachel. Quinn/Kurt/Mercedes friendship, Will/Sue friendship  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally. All characters are property of Glee.**

**Summary: Will Schuester and Quinn Fabray are kidnapped and tortured by a madman at the beginning of Junior year. The New Directions struggle to deal with the aftermath.**

**Notes: This story will jump back and forth between flashbacks and present time. Most characters will have a chapter that focuses on their POV. Title taken from the Florence and the Machine song "Shake it Out".**

*** ... * ... * ... * ... * ... * ... ***

Glee Club, is of course, indefinitely postponed. This is the first thing Rachel Berry checks on as she enters McKinley high school for the first day of her Junior year. That was two months ago...two months ago and still nothing! It's not that she's selfish. She really, honesty cares about poor Mr. Schuester and Quinn. She stopped by Quinn's house a few times with Mercedes and Kurt to drop off cookies and flowers. Quinn wasn't up to talking much but she seemed happy to have her Glee friends drop by. She also brought "I'm sorry" cookies, casseroles, and the occasional freshly baked apple pie to Mr. Schuester's house. He never answered the door though so she and Kurt began taking turns leaving their treats outside his front door in disposable containers. No, she's not selfish, but she has her own future to think about as well. She tried to broach this subject with Finn a few days ago but, he wasn't having it. In fact, he looked at her as if she had three snarling Medusa heads and then walked away. He walked away and hasn't returned her calls since.

The nerve.

So when she sees Quinn walk through the doors of the school one Friday morning, the level of excitement that pushes down into her stomach and out through her lungs and causes her to let out a shrill 'eep' that startles Kurt into doing the same can really be excused. Quinn looks great and that must mean that she's doing okay...and Glee Club will be coming back. Mr. Schuester's return must not be far behind and then their little singing family will be reunited and there will be musicals and show tunes and solos! Solos!

Quinn walks by and smiles slightly at them. Kurt glances at her and then double takes, finally realizing who it is and what the fuss is about. He drops his books to the floor and runs the few feet to catch up to her and pull her into a giant hug. She smiles brightly but Rachel can't help but notice that it doesn't really reach her eyes as it should. Kurt retrieves his books and then links arms with Quinn, "Mercedes is just going to flip when she sees your gorgeous face."

"I've missed her." Quinn answers quietly. She's missed them all really.

"Are you back permanently?" Kurt leads the way down the hallway towards where he knows their Diva friend will be. Rachel watches them leave. The look on Quinn's face triggers a little voice in her head that says 'Maybe I was wrong about Glee Club starting soon' but she stomps the voice down as she heads in the other direction towards her class..

"No. I'm starting today on a half schedule. I'll be here Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until I get back in the swing of things. The school provided me with a tutor so I can do catch up on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

She glances around nervously and hangs on tightly to Kurt's solid arm linked into her own. "I...Mercedes!"

Mercedes turns around just in time to catch Quinn and return her hug."Oh my God, girl, why didn't you tell me that you were coming back today?!"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." Quinn smiles as they separate, "I'm only here for part of the day today and I actually wanted to have a little meeting with Coach Sylvester before class, but I wanted to see you guys first."

"Damn right you did, girl!" Mercedes links her right arm with Quinn and her left with Kurt, "We'll walk you down to Coach Sylvester's office. Mrs. Krill won't mind if we're late for Calculus."

"Thanks, guys. So...how is everyone? Puck? Finn?"

"Gossip? My favorite." Kurt skips a little at the thought of chatting up the sorted lives of their fellow Glee Clubbers, "Well, Tina and Mike Chang are an Asian thing now. Surprised, right? Artie is a little crushed over it though. Puck has been moping around getting into fist fights with the puck heads on the hockey team. So hasn't Santana actually. Finn, well, he and Rachel are on the outs right now...that girl is truly crazy, sometimes. Hmm...everyone is going to be thrilled to see you! We need to get together and do lunch or something!"

"I'd like that," Quinn smiles as they reach Sue Sylvester's door, "Call me later?"

"Girl, try and stop us!" Mercedes hugs her again before she had Kurt head to class. Quinn takes a deep breath and then knocks quietly on the office door.

"Enter!"

"Coach Sylvester?" Quinn pokes her head through the door just as the cheer leading coach looks up. A look of surprise crosses her face for a moment before she stands up to greet her student.

"Hey, Q, how are you feeling? I didn't realize you were coming back today." She sits on the edge of her desk and leans back to regard the former head cheerleader.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you before I started classes. Is that okay or...?"

"It's fine. How can I help you?"

"Well...um..." She starts but then changes her mind and begins a new question, "Is Mr. Schuester back yet? He won't return my calls and..."

Sue sighs and cuts her off, "He's not, Q. Actually, I've tried calling him too but nothing. Figgins said he's receiving disability insurance until at least November. I don't know when he's coming back."

She nods, a faraway look in her eye, before she continues, "Well, really, I just wanted to know if maybe you'd consider allowing me back on the Cheerios. I need something to focus on and..."

"You know when practice is held. Show up and I'll give you a spot."

Quinn smiles, stands, and gives Sue a slight hug, "Thanks, Coach. I have to get to class but I'll see you at practice."

Sue watches her as she leaves the office. She knows that the only thing that is going to help Quinn in her recovery is a return to normalcy. It's time to pay a visit to one William Schuester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Present time:**

Sue storms into the apartment, slamming the front door behind her. From the amount of dust collecting on things in the kitchen and living room, it's clear that Schuester hasn't left the confines of his bedroom since he was released from the hospital. She hopes, since she is about to enter said room, that he at least removes himself to the bathroom to use the toilet. Not many things make Sue dry heave but the thought of a shit-and-piss-soiled Will Schuester certainly is one of them. She slams open the bedroom door, goes straight to the windows, and pushes back the curtains, flooding the room with light. "Time to get up, William! Those little snot faucets in Glee Club are moping about and I can't get..." She turns and stops herself when she finally catches sight of him. He has lost a considerable amount of weight. Hair shaved short, dark smudges under empty eyes, chapped lips, blank stare. He's wrapped up in his blanket with his knees pushed up as high as they can go so he's rolled into a ball with only his face visible. She steels herself before she continues. He needs this. "Well, are you deaf? It's time to get up!"

He blinks once and then again before twitching his eyes downward. He makes no other move.

"William, I'd really love to stay here all day and...actually, no I wouldn't - it smells like my nana's bathroom in here. Anyway, my point is, rise and shine! Time to greet the day! It's beautiful out! Want to sing about it?" She stalks around the room, taking in the pill bottles on the dresser and pile of sheets in the corner, before coming to stand directly in front of him. He doesn't look at her. "William, I don't want to have to keep repeating myself!"

Eventually, when staring him down doesn't yield results, she sits on the edge of the bed near his knees. He moves slightly then, drawing a fraction of an inch away. "Look, Schuester, what happened to you sucks but you can't stay in here forever. You'll starve or dehydrate or those peppy little glee puppies of yours will dissolve into sadness. You've had two weeks with no one bothering you...well, except Berry and Hummel who keep leaving casseroles and cakes in the hallway outside your front door. Seriously, eat them or throw them out because families of hungry rats are starting to take over the hallway. The neighbors are getting angrier than inhabitants of a border town after a rush of illegals move into their back yards." She says this all in one breath before adding, "It's time to rejoin society, buddy."

His eyes turn up to stare at her at the use of the sarcastic nickname. He stares at her for a long moment before raising the blanket over his head and mumbling out a half-hearted, "Go away."

"Oh, so he can speak!" Sue tugs the blanket away with a slight bit more force than is necessary. "Time to get up and shower, buddy. Maybe do some laundry. Eat a sandwich. Time's a wasting!"

Without the safety of his blankets, he feels naked and exposed. He doesn't like the way she is looking at him, as if there are spiders crawling on his skin and she wants to crush them. Wants to crush him.

It feels like the spiders are _under_ his skin. Maybe they are.

He slowly slides off the bed. He's already taken three showers today but he'll take another to get away from her and the way she is looking at him. His t-shirt sticks to his back a little as he slides and it pulls at his stitches but he keeps his face from showing the wince of pain. He doesn't _want_ her to see his pain. It's the only thing that is _his _anymore. He has already laid out fresh clothes for himself so he grabs them and silently enters the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

Sue watches him the entire time. She wants to gauge his stability. She's never known Will Schuester to bottle anything inside. His feelings pour out of him in the sappy songs he listens to and sings, the melodramatic lessons he assigns his little ankle-biters in Glee club, or the random teary confessions he makes to anyone around him who will listen to that garbage. He finally has a reason to be upset...to cry, to rage, to sing his lady songs, and instead...nothing. No tears, no words, no songs. He's blank. He's blank and that worries her.

She strips his bed and grabs the pile of sheets from off the ground and hefts them out of the apartment and to the laundry room. Turns out, there are six sets of dirty sheets and she needs to take up two washers to fit all of them in at the same time. She notes the lines of dried blood that criss-cross the fitted sheets and glares a little at them before adding a whole lot of bleach, detergent, and OXYclean to the washers and tossing the separated piles into the sudsy water. She sets the timer and then heads back upstairs. He's still in the bathroom when she gets back so she pulls out a set of fresh sheets from his closet(Seriously? Who has this many bed sets? Is the employee discount at Sheets and Things that good?) and remakes his bed. The shower had stopped several minutes ago but he still hasn't come out. She knocks on the bathroom door but doesn't receive an answer.

"William, you come out or I'll come in and well, why don't we just save ourselves from that embarrassment?" He still doesn't answer so she groans and pushes the door open. He's thankfully, mostly dressed, sitting on the closed toilet seat, shirtless, rubbing his face as if he has a headache. She grabs his t-shirt from the vanity and stands a couple of feet away from him, "Do you need help with your shirt, buddy? I mean they..."

He cuts her off by pulling the fabric slowly from her hand. He stands and that's when she sees the horror on his back. Deep whip marks in various stages of healing criss-cross his back - some deep enough to need stitches. Several, what appear to be, burn marks cover his shoulders. Someone...that man...has carved the number 12 into the flesh beneath his left shoulder blade and it is now neatly stitched with black thread. An image of Frankenstein's monster pops into her head as he pulls his t-shirt down, covering himself. "William..."

"Don't." He looks her in the eyes for the second time and she bites her tongue. He doesn't need her pity and she isn't good at offering it to people anyway.

"Quinn came back to school today." He nods slowly and she continues, "First thing she said? 'When is Mr. Schue coming back?' I didn't know what to tell her." He nods slowly again but doesn't answer so she tries something else, "Are you hungry, pal? You're looking a little on the scrawny side..."

"No." He moves past her and makes it back to his bed before she can stop him. He lays down and pulls the freshly changed blankets over his head effectively shutting her, and everything else, out. Normally she would rip the blankets away, make him get up, goad him until he yelled back. Not today. All things considered, it was a good start. At least he got out of bed.

She leaves the room without saying goodbye but she waits in the living room until his laundry is done. He finds his six pairs of sheets and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his living room when he gets out of bed many hours later. He brings the sheets into his room. The sandwich goes in the trash.


	3. Chapter 3

_Three months earlier..._

"In a gruesome discovery, the body of forth victim 8-year-old Jennifer Bean was found in the woods off of interstate..." Will shuts off the radio as he pulls into an empty parking spot at Target. There is only a month left to school and he can't afford to slack off anymore. It's time to start writing lesson plans, thinking of Glee set lists, and grading summer school work. Maybe if he doesn't sleep he can get it all done in three or four days. Then he can go back to pining over Emma and...well, really that's all he has been doing over the break.

He steps out of his car and then reaches back in for his jacket. It's unusually cold for late July. A voice from across the parking lot calls out his name drawing his attention in that direction. Two blonde haired girls smile and wave as they head in his direction, "Hey Brittany, Quinn. How are you guys?"

"Hey, Mr. Schue. It's my mom's birthday next week so I'm picking up a gift. She didn't want me going out alone though because of the stories on the news so Brittany and I have been hanging out a lot. Buddy system, you know?" She flips her blonde hair back and smiles. She lost the pregnancy weight quickly and a small stab of remorse sticks in Will's stomach as he thinks about the baby and how his crazy ex-wife almost made it his. He still feels an uneasy emptiness deep in his soul when he thinks about how a few months ago he thought he was going to be a daddy at this time.

"Did you hear about the sewers?" Brittany asks and Will smiles as he narrows his eyes in confusion like he usually does when she speaks.

"Well, I was chasing Lord Tubbington..." There is a pop and then all hell breaks loose. Brittany hits the ground with a sickening thud, blood pooling around her instantly on the pavement. Quinn screams and tries to drop to her knees next to her friend but Mr. Schuester grabs her arm and yanks her behind the car. He peers around the side to where Brittany is laying but it is obvious nothing can be done. Her eyes are open but unseeing. Blood is trickling from a small wound on the center of her forehead. Logically, he knows she's been shot but he doesn't understand where the shot came from or who would do such a thing. He crawls back and puts himself between Quinn and the car next to them, effectively shielding her body with his own. It's so early in the morning that not many people are in the parking lot but the few present are shouting and running around in panic.

It's pandemonium.

He knows he won't be able to get her in the car and drive away without putting her at more risk. He needs to hide her...hide himself...

"Mr. Schuester?" Quinn hides her face against his back. "Brittany..."

He ignores her unspoken question. It's not the time. "Quinn, slide under the car. Get your phone out..."

The screaming is getting closer.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are!" A menacing voice is drawing nearer.

"Quinn, get under the car!" He whispers quietly but there is a panic in his voice. Quinn can't move. She's rooted to the spot, crouched down with her face buried in his jacket. His hands are on her upper arms, pushing her, and then she's crawling under the car just in time to see an ugly pair of boots appear near the front of the car.

"Where is mom?" The voice angrily demands. Will slides backwards trying to put distance between Quinn and the man. Trying to lead him away. Quinn watches him uses his hands and heels to scoot himself backwards. She can't see his face but after a moment he stops moving and his hands go up slightly in a placating gesture.

"Where is mom?!" The boots are getting closer. Quinn knows she should slide out the other side and run but she can't. Her eyes stay focused on Mr. Schuester's hands.

"I don't...I don't know your mom." Although he sounds calm, Quinn can hear a slight edge in his voice.

"Don't lie to me, Dad! I'm tired of you lying to me all the time!"

There is a thump and Mr. Schuester whimpers and falls back on his elbows before pulling himself back up. Quinn watches, terrified. She still can't see his face.

"Where is mom! She was standing with you!" There is silence for a moment and then Mr. Schuester starts dragging himself backwards again. "I know! It's a game! Come out..."

The boots turn towards her.

"Come out..."

"Don't..." Mr. Schuester scrambles upwards towards the man. There is another thump and then his body crumples to the ground in a heap. Quinn screams.

"Where ever you are!" She sees knees first and then the most terrifying face she has ever laid eyes on and then nothing else as something hard strikes her head and the world fades to black.

**Author's Notes: Oh...cliff hanger! Thank you for all the reviews and messages! They truly do motivate me to update more quickly and occasionally change the plot up a bit. :)**

**annnnd...Sorry, Brittany fans. :(**


	4. Chapter 4

Emma Pillsbury can't remember a time where she has felt more excited. No. That's a lie. There was a moment once upon a time when a certain, curly-haired, co-worker ran down the hallway and swept her up in his arms and...

No.

She can't think about that. About him. She's with Carl now.

She's been scrubbing the same, pristine spot on her counter for nearly an hour now and it finally feels clean. She gives it three more swipes of the bleach wipe in her hand just for good measure. She has about an hour before she has to meet Carl for their date at Breadstix, so she daintily sits on her couch and flicks on the TV. She's half-way through an episode of Judge Judy when the 'breaking news' bulletin flashes across the screen. She sits up a little straighter as Rod Remington's face appears on her screen.

"Breaking news out of Lima Ohio today where The Daylight Killer has struck again, killing two and abducting two others at a Target on West Main street early this morning. Police, in a bid to catch the killer, are releasing footage from the grizzly scene that unfolded just a few hours ago. The following scene may be upsetting to some viewers."

The footage is grainy but Emma sits forward. Maybe she knows the killer. Maybe she has seen him before. Maybe she can save a life. There are people running around the parking lot in panic. None of them are clear enough to recognize. A man with a handgun stalks across the screen and pauses between two cars. His arm goes up and he strikes something...someone who is down on the ground. A few seconds pass and then he strikes out again before crouching down and pulling someone else out from under the car. He opens the car door, shoves the person in, bends down, and struggles a bit before shoving the other person in. Then he gets in and drives away. The whole thing is over in a matter of seconds. A blown up, distorted, grainy image of the man's face flashes onto the screen for a moment before Rod is back.

"These are the only images that exist of the killer who has claimed at least eight victims in Lima and the surrounding towns over the past three months. Eye witnesses describe the killer as being in his mid-to-late-thirties with dark hair and dark eyes. He is around six feet tall, 220 pounds, and has an athletic build."

Emma's heart skips a beat as they show his face again. Suddenly, she has no desire to leave her home any more. She begins rubbing her hands together methodically.

"The killer is unique in that he strikes during the day and his victims don't seem to fit a pattern. So far he has claimed two men, two women, two teenaged boys, and two nine year old girls. Police have just released the names of today's victims. Pronounced dead on the scene were 17-year-old Brittany S. Pierce and 41-one-year-old Sandra Hill. An Amber Alert has been issued for 17-year-old Lucy Quinn Fabray who was taken from the parking lot by the killer. She is described as 5'6 and 120 pounds with blonde hair and green eyes. Also taken was 32-year-old McKinley High Spanish teacher, William Schuester. Schuester is described as 6'0 and 170 pounds with light brown hair and green eyes. The killer was last seen driving Schuester's blue..."

As Rod reads Brittany's name, Emma's hand goes to her mouth in shock. How is she going to comfort the students when school starts? Poor Brittany, so caring and loyal. She didn't deserve this. No one deserves this.

When Quinn's picture appears on screen, she drops to her knees in shock. Quinn Fabray who has so much going for her...how could this happen? Straight A student, Cheerio, Glee member. She had a few missteps the previous year with her pregnancy and the lies but she worked so hard to earn back everyone's respect. She was going to be something and now she is likely dead. Murdered by a deranged psychopath because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She screams til her throat is raw when she sees Will's yearbook photo smiling at her from the screen.

Carl finds her bawling on the floor 20 minutes later.

They never make it to the restaurant.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Notes: Since I'm jumping back and forth between time periods, I'm going to start marking chapters as either July or October so it doesn't get confusing. As always, thank you for the reviews and I apologize for ignoring Quinn and Schue last chapter!**

July

When Quinn wakes up, it's dark.

Beyond dark.

It's pitch black.

Her eyes have no light to focus on and it becomes almost painful to leave them open, so she snaps them shut. She can tell that she's lying on the ground and it's made out of cement. It's hard and cold beneath her skin and she realizes that she's shivering and that there are goosebumps covering her body. She sits up and pulls her thin cardigan around her more tightly but really, it doesn't help in the slightest.

Darkness and a cement ground, she must be in a basement. The thought of this terrifies her. She's alone and in a creepy basement and that man...and...and...

She may not be alone.

Mr. Schuester was with her. The thought enters her head as the fog starts to lift from her brain. A trickle of hope pools in her stomach and she has the overwhelming desire to cry.

She doesn't

She doesn't want to call out for him because someone else may hear but the thought of him also sitting in the basement not wanting to call out to her drives her to get on her hands and knees and crawl forward. She feels along the floor with her fingers searching for anything she can use as a weapon or any sign of her teacher.

Her knees are aching and her legs are numb with cold before she finally stumbles upon anything.

Her fingers brush up against something solid and she resists the urge to shriek in surprise. She reaches out her hand and brushes it against...fabric...denim...a person. A person laying on the ground just like she had been. She takes a chance and whispers faintly, "Mr. Schue?"

Nothing.

No answer. No movement.

She runs her hand along the denim. Jeans, her mind adds the detail. She moves her fingers along the denim...shin, knee, thigh, hip, and then she's touching leather. _Mr. Schue was wearing a leather jacket, _her mind screams and the hope that was sitting like a rock in her gut begins to spread outward through the rest of her body. She crawls further so she can reach higher. Leather turns to skin. A neck, jawline, mouth, nose, forehead, hair.

Short, curly hair.

Mr. Schuester.

Panic sets in a bit at his lack of movement. She runs her hand back down to his neck and hesitates only for a moment before reaching for his pulse.

_Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please..._

There is a strong beat against her fingers and she sighs in relief.

She tries shaking him awake but it doesn't help so she sits curled up next to his side and waits. She woke up. He will too. She woke up before that man came back. _He will too._

He has to.

She doesn't want to be alone here.

Eventually, after what feels like hours, his leg moves and she almost shrieks a second time. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose and she sighs in relief and bends down so her face is close to the spot where she knows his is.

"Mr. Schue? Are you okay?"

His arm shifts and then his hand is on her arm and he's struggling to sit up, "Quinn? How long have I been out? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" His voice is scratchy like he's in pain but his hand is warm and reassuring on her arm and she raises her own and grips his.

"I don't know. I woke up a while ago. I'm okay. My head hurts a little but I haven't...he hasn't been here." She shifts closer to him and she can almost imagine his worried eyes staring at her through the dark. "Are you okay?" She repeats the question.

"Yeah." He pauses, "I think I might have a concussion. My head is swimming."

She squeezes his hand. She doesn't want to let it go but she does and he drops it away from her arm. A long silence settles between them.

"I think that man is the one from the news..." She begins when the lack of noise starts to feel uncomfortable, but he cuts her off.

"Quinn, we don't need to..."

"No, I'm positive he's the man from the news. He killed four people...the man and woman and the two kids. I think..."

"We're getting out of here."

Silence falls again and she can't take it anymore. Tears start to stream from her eyes and a loud sob escapes her lips. He shifts next to her and then his arm is around her shoulders and she's being gently pulled against his side. "Quinn, we're getting out of here."

He rests his cheek against her hair as she cries. It's almost as comforting as the heat radiating off of his body. She shivers as she cries and then he shifts away and she has to clasp her hands together to stop from pulling him back to her. A moment later, his body returns to her side and there is something wrapped around her shoulders. Leather...his jacket. He has given her his jacket. She buries her face in the stiff fabric and works on slowing her tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't usually..."

"It's okay." and he squeezes her a little tighter, "I'm scared too but we need to keep it together so we can get out of here. Look at all you accomplished last year. If you can get through all of that, you can get through anything, right?"

She sniffles but the crying has stopped and she's a bit warmer now. They sit in silence a while again and she feels as though she is about to fall asleep at any moment when a creaking sound draws her attention towards the left side of the room. Mr. Schue's arm tightens around her shoulder and she can feel his breath quicken.

"Are we awake?" A voice from the darkness calls and suddenly the room is flooded with light. She closes her eyes tightly for only a second before opening them against the brightness. The man from the parking lot is standing at the top of the stairs staring down at them. His face is ugly – scarred and twisted into a nasty grin that sends chills up Quinn's spine. She can't look at him so she flicks her attention to look at Mr. Schue. His attention isn't on the man either and Quinn thinks that maybe it's because he has already gazed into those horrible eyes and seen what they can do. His gaze darts around the room taking in their surroundings. There are no windows and the only door is the one the man is currently standing in. The room is large and completely made out of concrete but surprisingly, it is decorated like someone is meant to live there. There are two couches, a coffee table, and a small TV set up in one corner. Two twin beds adorned with hideous blankets and a nightstand with a lamp sit in the opposing corner. There is also a small sink, a toilet, and an open wardrobe full of clothes near where the beds are.

"Kathy and Brian aren't home from school yet but when they get here, we'll have a family dinner." His voice is low and terrible as if he hasn't used it in a very long time. Quinn leans closer to Mr. Schue's side. "Are you happy to be home, mom?"

He's looking at her so she knows he is talking to her but she has no idea what he is referring to so she simply stares up at him. Apparently this was the wrong thing to do. He begins to stalk down the stairs and then she is being pulled to the side and up to her feet by Mr. Schuester. He stands between her and the man and puts his hands out in front of him just like he did in the parking lot. "Mom is just confused. She hit her head and..."

"Enough!" The man shouts and Mr. Schue starts walking backwards, moving her along with him as he goes. "Mom and Dad aren't going to be mean to me again! You do what I say! You answer me when I speak! You are here to make me happy!"

"Of course we are. Mom and I want to make you happy. We'll do what you want." His voice is calm but she can feel him shaking where his body is touching her own.

The man's eyes narrow and then open wide again, "You're bleeding dad. You should wash up at the sink. Kathy and Brian will be here soon and then we'll have a family dinner. Does that make you happy, mom?"

Quinn nods and that seems to satisfy the man. He turns and stalks upstairs, shutting the door but leaving on the light. Mr. Schuester turns and smiles at her slightly and then Quinn notices the dried blood covering almost the entire left side of his face like some sort of twisted version of the Phantom of the Opera. She can't believe she didn't notice it when the light first cam on. "You're bleeding."

His hand goes up to his forehead for a second before he drops it, "He hit me with the gun twice and I think my head may have also broken my fall earlier. It probably looks worse than it feels now. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? I...yeah, I'm fine." She grabs his wrist and drags him towards the couches in the corner. She makes him sit before she goes to the sink and grabs the towel left on the side. She turns the knobs and almost lets out a happy sigh when water starts gushing out. She wets the towel and then returns to the couches. He looks at her quizzically as she raises the towel but quickly closes his eyes as she starts gently washing the blood from his face. She can tell she is hurting him from the way that he is trying not to wince but she needs to wash away the red. She needs him to look normal. She needs him to be her constant here.

"Mr. Schue?" She doesn't know what she is going to ask. Doesn't know what to say to make herself feel better.

His eyes open slowly and he holds her gaze, "We're getting out of here."

And maybe at the moment that is all that needs to be said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Okay, okay eaulby, I may possibly, maybe think about shipping Will and Quinn. We shall see. :) This is a bit of a filler chapter. Don't worry, terrible things are afoot. As always, thank you everyone for reading! I appreciate you all!**

Quinn learns three things about Mr. Schuester on their first night together.

_1. He laughs when he gets nervous._

After the blood has all been washed away, they each give the other privacy so they can relieve themselves and wash up as best they can in the small sink. Quinn wets her hair completely and then rings it out. It certainly isn't clean but it doesn't feel like there are bugs crawling around in it anymore either. She walks the few feet to the beat up couch where Mr. Schuester is sitting and sits beside him. He glances at her for a moment but then goes back to staring at the blank TV screen.

"Do you think it works?" She asks just because the silence is becoming uncomfortable.

"Probably not but it wouldn't hurt to check." He stands and feels around the bottom of the set until he finds the power button. Surprisingly, it turns on and they are greeted with Quinn's face staring back at them. Mr. Schuester backs up until he is back at the couch without taking his eyes off of the screen. Quinn stares at the screen as they replay the footage from the parking lot. She reaches out and grasps Mr. Schuester's hand at the part where that monster hits him over the head with the gun. A police officer explains calmly that until they locate bodies, they're treating this as a kidnapping and a missing person's case.

They're expecting to find bodies?

She hides her face in her free hand and sobs. "We're going to end up like Brittany. We're...no, worse...he's going to rape me and torture us and then shoot us like Brittany."

He pulls his hand from her grasp and uses it instead to rub soothing circles on her back but he says nothing. Truthfully, she thinks she prefers his silence right now. Eventually she cries herself out and he nudges her slightly with his elbow. "We should try to get a little sleep. I don't think he's coming back down tonight and we'll need our rest for our rebel stand."

She eyes him wearily and he smiles slightly at her in a poor attempt to break the tension. She glares back and he looks away. Sadly, it feels like she has won some sort of small victory. He stands, turns off the TV, walks the short distance to the beds, and flops down on the one closest to the wall. She stares at him for a long moment before making her way to the other bed. She lays down and pulls her knees up to her chest. It's darker over here - dark enough to sleep, but she can't. He could come down here at any moment. He could grab her and carry her upstairs and mutilate her and...and...and...

"Mr. Schue?" She calls in a tiny voice and for a moment she doesn't think he has heard her but then he turns his head to look at her, "I...I can't sleep." It's a childish thing to say, she knows, but she's scared and that outweighs her need to appear cool and collected at all times.

"We can switch. When I was little I used to sleep in my closet because I felt safer being closed in. Maybe being next to the wall will help." His voice is hardly over a whisper and she wonders if it has more to do with it being bedtime then with there being a madman upstairs. Maybe he's childish too.

"Your parents didn't care that you slept on the floor in the closet?"

"uh..." He chuckles slightly and rubs his hand over his face, "Not...no, not really." He pauses and then sits up, "So, want to switch?"

She takes a deep breath and sits up as well, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "No, I don't want to switch but...could I, could I sleep over there too? Against the wall?"

It takes a second for her request to sink in and then he's laughing nervously again and shaking his head, "I don't think that's appropriate, Quinn."

"None of this is appropriate!" She bites out and he turns away with a distressed look on his face, "Sorry. It's just...I don't want to be by myself. I don't want him to come down here and...I guess, I would just feel better if he couldn't grab me or he couldn't grab you without the other one knowing. Please. If we get out of here, I promise I won't tell anyone about it."

She rambling and he's laughing breathlessly again but he scoots over to the side of the bed to make room for her. She crawls up the foot of the bed and lays next to him but it's a twin bed and really not enough room for two people. She looks up at him and he seems to have realized the same thing as he is half hanging off the bed and obviously not comfortable. She sits up and tugs him closer to the center of the bed, "Scoot over this way." She adjusts the blankets over the both of them and then lays on her side with her head on his shoulder. "If you say this is inappropriate, I'll knee you in the kidney."

He doesn't say a word.

_2. He vomits when he is hungry._

It feels like it has been hours when Quinn wakes up but there is no way to know since there are no windows in their dungeon. The first thing she realizes is that she's cold. The second thing she realizes is that she's cold because the heat source next to her is missing.

She's alone.

She's alone and she panics for a moment until she hears the water running across the room.

She swings her legs off of the bed and the ground is freezing beneath her bare feet and she thinks for a second that she should find her shoes, but she doesn't want to be alone for even a moment so she deals with the cold against her skin. At some point either Mr. Schue or that monster must have turned the light off because the only source of light in the room now is from the muted TV. She glances at it and is internally thankful that it's _I Love Lucy_ she sees and not herself staring back through the screen. The sink is running but he isn't standing in front of it and she feels the panic start to come back but then she sees him kneeling on the ground in front of the toilet. His shoulders are shaking and she wonders briefly why he is crying in front of the toilet but then he jerks forward and heaves his stomach contents into the bowl.

She turns the water off and kneels down next to him, "Mr. Schue? Are you okay?"

He jumps a little and quickly flushes the toilet, "I'm sorry I woke you up. I turned the water on so you wouldn't hear but...well..." He trails off as he gags again and then he's leaning over the toilet again, dry-heaving.

She hesitates a second but then reaches out and rubs small circles on his back just as he had done for her earlier. She knows that if he could speak at the moment, he would admonish her for being innappropriate but, fortunately, it's kind of hard to speak and gag at the same time. He spits and flushes the toilet again before standing up and making his way to the sink. She watches as he turns back on the faucet and starts guzzling enough water to satiate a camel. He eventually turns off the faucet and rubs his mouth dry with the back of his hand. He laughs nervously.

Again.

"What's the matter?" She asks, her hands on her hips. She resists the urge to tap her foot like her mother used to when Quinn and her sister were little and refused to acknowledge "who started it".

"I...uh...it's nothing. It's stupid." He smiles weakly, "We should get back to bed. I turned the light off so it would be..."

"Stop it." He's deflecting and it angers her. She crosses her arms and stands in his way, "Answer me."

"I...uh...I kind of...well, my stomach hurt and I have a terrible gag reflex so..."

"Why does your stomach hurt? Is it because of your head?"

"No, I...uh..." He's embarrassed, a slight pink twinge has made it's way to his cheeks, and she smiles slightly at him. Finn stuttered too when he was embarrassed. "I didn't eat much the last couple of days and it's catching up to me. I was going to grab lunch after I left Target but..."

"You throw up when you're hungry?" He shrugs his shoulders bashfully and she huffs a little, "That's counterproductive."

He half-smiles again, "I suppose so."

"Well, you saw me rush out of the room and vomit enough while I was pregnant, so I guess we're even now."

"I guess so. Bed?"

"Why, Mr. Schue, if you wanted to get me into bed so badly, you should have said something!" She laughs quietly as he sputters on his 'that's inappropriate'.

_3. Want a bedtime song? It's surprisingly hard to get one out of him._

They're arranged in the small bed again, Quinn's cheek against Mr. Schue's chest. His heartbeat is strong and reassuring in her ear. His breath flutters her hair every time he exhales.

Now that she's relaxed a little, she starts to take in her surroundings a bit more. The sheets are scratchy and the bed is lumpy but Mr. Schue's hard chest makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow. The room in general smells foul but laying this close, she can fill her nostrils with the sweet smell of the laundry soup he uses and the spicy smell of his cologne. She wonders briefly if the smell of her shampoo and perfume are making things any better for him. She also ponders what her friends would say if they knew she was sleeping on top of their teacher. Her mind is running and she comes to the conclusion that she's not going to fall asleep unless she finds a way to make it stop.

"Mr. Schue?" He doesn't answer and so she pokes his side and repeats his name until he does.

"Quinn?" His voice is soft and questioning.

"I..." She doesn't want to say she can't sleep again so she changes tactics, "...sing to me?"

"Quinn. That's..."

She sits up and stares down at him. Some emotion she can't describe flashes across his eyes...concern? Nervousness? But then it's gone and he just looks blank. "Quit it with the inappropriate crap. I don't want to keep hearing it. And while I'm at it, while we're here, I'm not calling you Mr. Schue. It's too impersonal and I need a friend right now. You're the only one here so you're it...Will." She stresses his name angrily and his eyebrows shoot up for a second. She waits for him to say something but when he doesn't, she lays back down.

"Now, I can't sleep. It's too quiet , there is a psycho upstairs, and it smells down here. Can you please sing something to me?"

He huffs but then his voice is floating softly to her ears and she can feel herself relax. It's a little piece of normal in this place. She can close her eyes and pretend she's in Glee and she does. The song is soft and sweet and about a boy and a girl and being in love. "My Girl" her brain supplies. She feels herself relax as his soft voice lulls her to sleep. When the song is done, he's quiet and she can feel herself nodding off, "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to get out of here, right?"

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes lightly in response.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Up super soon indeed. ;p**

**October:**

Will is laying on the couch trying to fall asleep. He figures it's a nice change from sleeping on his bed. His back hurts and his head is throbbing but he can't summon the energy to get up to get his pain medication and some water to swallow it down with. He moves to his side and curls up into a tight ball, wrapping his blanket around himself snugly. It seems to be the only way he can get warm despite the fact that the heat is set to 75 and a space heater is pointing directly at the couch.

He must have dozed off at some point because when he next becomes aware of his surroundings, the room is only slightly visible in the dusky light coming through the windows. There is movement behind him, he can hear...can feel it. He pushes himself further down into the couch cushions in a feeble attempt to hide but the voices are coming closer and there is no where to run.

There is an outline, a person, in front of him. He slits his eyes and then presses them shut tightly. He'll pretend to sleep. Sometimes if he pretends to sleep...

But where is Quinn? Where are the kids?

The kids are dead.

The kids are dead...the kids are dead..._the kids are dead, dead, dead, dead..._

Dead in the dungeon.

He's back in the dungeon. He never left. It was a lie.

Lie, lie lie lie lie..._lies._

He needs to move. He needs to find Quinn.

He slits his eyes again, the monster is moving...almost, almost...

And then he kicks out. Hard. His foot connects with the monster's knee and then Will slides off the couch and struggles to free himself from the blanket and run. His socks slide along the floor for only a moment before they find purchase but it's too much. Too much time. Too many mistakes.

Where is Quinn? He needs to find Quinn.

He fights.

He's being pinned down. He swings his arms and his fists connect to flesh several times. He tries to kick his feet but they don't move.

Someone behind him is talking. No, they're screaming. It's not Quinn.

_He needs to find Quinn._

The monster has caught his arm and is holding it down. He is pushed onto his stomach and then the weight is back and his arms are pinned and...

_It'll hurt more if you struggle. Don't struggle._

He forces himself to stop moving. His back hurts and his chest aches and all he can see is red.

_Red, red, red, red, red..._

The monster will finish and then leave and then he can find Quinn.

There is no movement on top of him. The monster isn't moving. Maybe this is it?

_Finally._

But then all he can hear is crying. The sound of sobbing fills his ears and then everything isn't so red anymore. It's dark and smells clean and his cheek is pushed into a carpet, not concrete. There is a face in front of him...big, dark eyes, filled with tears.

Not Quinn. Not the monster.

"Rachel?"

* … * … * … * … *

"Rachel, are you sure this is a good idea?" Finn asks, fidgeting with the key in his hands as they stand outside the door to Mr. Schuester's apartment.

"Look, Finn, if Ms. Sylvester didn't want us to come here, she would have said so. Instead, she practically begged us to come by telling us that she had a key and Mr. Schuester looked like he was feeling a little better when she came here last week." Rachel knows if she says anything with enough conviction, Finn will believe her. It's just his nature. Truthfully, she just wants to see Mr. Schue to gauge when he might possibly be returning to Glee. If he's feeling well enough, she'll ask him to consider coming back in a couple of weeks. He won't want to disappoint his Glee kids, after all.

"Yes, but she didn't tell you where the key was. You waited til she was at Cheerio's practice and stole it from her desk." Finn looks down at her critically. What she is saying _kind of _makes sense and he really wants to see Mr. Schue so maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they just went in for a minute...

"All part of her plan! She doesn't want to ask us to visit him but she wants us to visit him. It makes perfect sense! Why else would she put the key in her bottom desk drawer where anyone could come along and take it?" She snatches the key out of his hand, puts it in the lock, and pushes the door open.

Finn follows because he feels as though he's going to get caught standing in the hallway by an angry janitor or something. He shuts the door quietly behind them. It's dark in here. Much darker than the hallway. Rachel knows her way around though. She's been here a couple of time. It's dark so he must be sleeping...living room couch or his bed? The living room is closer so they check there first.

And there he is.

She can see the lump on the couch beneath the blanket, the top of his head just barely visible in the dusky light. His head is shaved and she's slightly taken aback for a second. What else is different?

Finn walks around her and stands in front of the couch. He looks down at his favorite teacher for a long moment. The man looks so different...the hair, the thinner face, the smudges under his eyes. Finn knows as soon as he's seen him that this was a bad idea. If Mr. Schue wanted them here, all he had to do is ask and he hadn't asked.

Finn turns to walk away when something hard hits the back of his knee and he's tumbling forward. Rachel screams and Finn turns just in time to see Mr. Schue scramble from the coach in a panic.

"Finn!" Rachel screams again and she's crying loud, ugly sobs. Finn reacts on instinct. He grabs Mr. Schue's ankle and pulls sending his teacher sprawling to the ground. As Mr. Schue tries to clamber away, Finn pulls himself forward and sits on his legs.

Bad idea.

Mr. Schue is grunting and babbling a lot of nonsense that Finn can't quite make out but he can tell the man isn't here. He doesn't know where the hell he is or who he is with. "It's Finn, Mr. Schue! You need to calm down!"

The first blow strikes him underneath the ear and he almost rolls away in pain. Each new blow lands somewhere different and they all hurt like hell but he still doesn't get off of the older man's legs. "Calm down!"

When the next blow comes, Finn intercepts it. He grabs the arm and uses it to flip the man over so he can't punch out anymore. He quickly sits back on his upper legs, effectively pinning him helplessly to the floor.

"Don't struggle. Don't struggle. Don't struggle." Mr. Schue chants for a moment and Finn understands the words but doesn't want to understand the context. The teacher stops moving and lays perfectly still underneath Finn except for his breathing which is coming out in ragged gasps. The only other sound in the room is Rachel's loud, broken sobs.

She approaches the two, kneels down on the ground, and looks directly into Mr. Schue's terrified, green eyes. "Mr. Schue, can you hear me? It's Finn and Rachel. Are you okay?"

It takes a long moment but his eyes finally focus on hers and she can see a spark of recognition, "Rachel?"

She sobs loudly and sits back on her heels. "Yes, it's Rachel. Rachel and Finn."

Finn slides off of his teacher to sit beside him but Mr. Schue doesn't get up. Doesn't move at all. "Mr. Schue, we...I...I just...needed to see if you were okay because..."

Mr. Schue does sit up then, pushes himself up with a grimace on his face. He keeps his eyes on the ground. "I'm sorry. Could you leave, please?"

Rachel opens up her mouth to say something but Finn shoots her the dirtiest look he can manage before getting up and pulling her up too. "Mr. Schue, you have my phone number. I really...I mean, if you need anything...I mean, I really, really miss you."

Mr. Schue doesn't say anything, just wraps his arms around his middle tightly and bows his head. Finn drags Rachel out of the apartment and doesn't speak to her the entire way to her house. He leaves her crying in her driveway alone. He goes to bed as soon as he gets home but he doesn't sleep for the longest time. The words _don't struggle_ repeat through his head until sleep finally claims him.

Across town, Will stays sitting on the floor until morning.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind words! Still undecided on the Quill (sad to say). She is definitely developing some sort of feelings, haven't decided if it is going to be mutual yet. If you _really_ want the Quill, drop me a line and let me know.  
**

**Part of this chapter is bordering on M (not quite there though). If you get squeamish over violence, I suggest you not read any further.**

*** … * … * … * … ***

_**July**_

The kidnapper doesn't come back for days. Will wonders (but doesn't say out loud) whether or not he just kidnapped them so they could starve to death for his amusement. He's seen the news programs about the state of the other victims though so that seems unlikely.

He and Quinn are sitting on the couch. They're watching Step Brothers on the crappy TV they were so graciously supplied with. She's sprawled out with her feet against his thigh and whenever he chuckles at an inappropriate joke, she kicks him softly. He cracks his neck and crosses his arms over his chest to keep the warmth in. It's still cold in their dungeon and Quinn has his jacket. She's had his jacket since they've gotten here. He hasn't asked for it back and she hasn't offered.

It's fine.

After they woke up the first day here, Will went through the entire room looking for anything they could use to help them escape. They're is an old wardrobe full of musty clothes and he checked and then rechecked every pocket twice but they're all empty. No windows, no phones, no weapons, and only one door. He hasn't worked up the courage to try the door yet but he knows if they're left down here with no food for several more days, he'll have to.

On the positive side, he's stopped dry-heaving.

They've filled the last few days playing 20 questions, watching TV, and having a very heated staring contest. Quinn won...but only because she puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes. He wasn't expecting it and so he laughed. Laughed like a little girl.

His pride is still suffering from that one.

He's taught her how to play 'rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock' and they got up to best out of 57 before she got tired of it and called him a nerd. She tried to teach him how to play 'tic tac toe' the hand clapping game. After the seventh time he messed up, she snapped at him and told him his hand-clapping skills were about as good as Finn's dancing ability. She stomped across the room and stayed there for the longest time, leaving him alone on the couch. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong but when she came back, he apologized anyway. She glared at him but then taught him 'Miss Mary Mack' and didn't lose her patience when it took him eight times to finally get the whole thing down.

He's gone through and taken stock of everything in the room. The clothes are dated and won't fit either of them. The dresses are meant for someone much taller than Quinn. The pants are meant for someone shorter and stockier than himself. There is an assortment of kid's clothing. They have an unlimited supply of water, two 24 packs of toilet paper (why?), and several extra blankets.

They've watched more TV in two days than he has in two months and his brain protests every time he tries to focus on whatever show Quinn has turned on. She's explained that her parents didn't really allow her to watch TV growing up so staring mindlessly at it now is a treat in hell. His parents sat him in front of the TV whenever they were too drunk to care he was also in the house. So...pretty much every day until he was smart enough to only go home for showers and sleep.

He doesn't tell her that.

She has insisted on sleeping next to him the past three nights. He knows it's inappropriate but she smells clean and her breath on his neck is comforting. It reminds him that he isn't alone. She also insists he sings a song before they drift off. He thinks she probably finds her comfort in that.

He chuckles at the movie again and her toes press into his leg. She is about to open her mouth to scold him when there is a loud creak behind them. It's the kind of ominous sound that plays in horror movies just before the killer skulks out a dark corner. There are footsteps on the stairs and Will is up in an instant, pulling Quinn behind and shielding her with his body.

"Good news! Kathy is home!" The madman is down the stairs and he stoops and places what is obviously a little girl on the concrete. He's not gentle about it but he isn't exactly rough either. As he stands, he stares at Will and Quinn angrily. He has a thick leather strap in his hand and there is a glint of metal in his pocket. Knife? Gun?

He approaches quickly, stands on the other side of the couch and nearly spits in anger, "You don't appreciate me! I picked Kathy up for you! She's home and you don't even say thank you!?"

Will's eyes go between the little girl on the floor to the snarling psycho in front of them. Behind him, Quinn tucks herself against his back. He can feel her shaking. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting her so soon. I...thank you so much."

The man stares angrily before his look softens. "I did get her here early, didn't I? I thought it would be a nice surprise." He pauses and then looks distressed, "But Brian...Brian didn't make it home. He had an accident! I didn't mean to do what I did! I know you loved him more than me!"

He's babbling and Will has no idea what he should say but he tries anyway, "I'm sure it was just an accident. Look, Kathy is fine and..."

"Don't placate me! I know you're mad! I'm not stupid. Why do you think I'm stupid?!" He's around the couch in an instant. He grabs Will by the shirt and spins him forcefully around. Quinn backs up against the wall and watches helplessly as Will is thrown to the ground. The man brings up the belt forcefully and then strikes it down against Will's back. The power of the blow forces all of the air out of his lungs and for a moment he thinks he's going to suffocate on the pain. The belt comes down again...and again...and again...

Quinn screams and the man turns and takes a step towards her.

No.

_No. _

Will struggles to move his arm but he manages to reach out and grab the man's ankle, "Don't." The word doesn't work. The man pulls his foot away and stalks towards Quinn. Will feels panic build in his stomach, "You're an idiot! You're a failure! You're..."

And then the man is on top of him. He flips him over onto his back and Will cries out as he feels his skin rip even more. The man pulls him up by his shirt and slams him down, his head connecting with the concrete. Stars swim in front of his eyes and for a moment he can't hear anything but then sound rushes back like a wave and all he can hear is Quinn crying across the room.

_Quinn is okay. Focus on that._

The man's hands are on his neck but not tight enough to cut off air. He stares down at Will and Will tries his hardest not to lose conscious. And then the man's lips are covering his own and Will looses it.

This isn't going to happen.

He fights. He fights hard. He brings his arm up and punches the man as hard as he can. His ruined back protests the movement but the adrenaline pushes him on. The man stumbles away for only a moment before he is back and standing and the belt is striking down against Will's chest.

It hurts so badly that he can't move. Couldn't move even if he tried. Hot tears stream out of his eyes involuntarily. The man flips him over roughly and Will cries out as his chest rubs against the hard ground. The man strikes him again with the belt before crouching down and pulling his hair so that their eyes can meet. "I'm going to let you heal up a bit and then you're going to let me do what I want or I'll shoot them both and let you watch the blood drain from their bodies." He slams Will's head into the ground and his vision goes black and the air rushes out of his lungs again.

Quinn watches the entire thing from across the room. When the belt connects with Will's chest, she slides down the wall and dissolves into tears.

It's her fault. He was protecting her. It's her fault.

When he's done with the assault, she watches the man climb the stairs before crawling over to Will's side. His mouth is open as if he is screaming, his bottom lip caught on the cement, but no sound is coming out. His shirt is covered in blood and she can imagine the horror that it is hiding beneath. She rushes to the sink and wets one of their extra blankets. She peels his shirt away from his skin and gags at the sight. Five deep, criss-crossing whip marks mar his back and each of them could probably use stitches. She dabs the blanket on his back and it comes back covered in blood. She does it again and he whimpers in pain. She has only dabbed the blood away from one laceration before he has lost consciousness. She finishes his back and wipes the dried tears from his face before she lays down next to him, waiting for him to wake up so she can clean his chest.

Across the room, the little girl is still on the ground. Quinn can see from here that she is breathing. She can't bring herself to leave Will's side to check on the child though. She doesn't think, at this moment, that she could leave his side for anything.


	9. Chapter 9

Author Notes: Thank you for all the kind words. :) Sorry for the slow update...I unfortunately had school assignments that I couldn't afford to procrastinate on anymore. More action will be coming up in the next few chapters. Enjoy. :)

* … * … * … * … * … *

Will doesn't wake up for a long time. Quinn traces his face with her fingertips, willing him to open his eyes.

He doesn't.

Every so often she'll slide her fingers down his face and to his throat. She breathes a sigh of relief every time she feels the steady thump of his pulse beating against his neck.

When willing him awake doesn't work, she stands, stretches her legs, and walks the few feet over to the child the monster dropped on the ground. She's small – maybe 8 years old, with blonde hair and freckles. Quinn stoops and shakes her arm. The girl also doesn't wake up.

Quinn wishes she could sleep too.

She picks up the child. She is light and Quinn lifts her easily – carrying her to the couch and laying her across the cushions. She wets her hand in the sink and uses her fingers to wipe away the grime from the child's cheeks and nose. She sits on the floor next to the couch so that she can see both of them – watch both of them for any sign that they are waking up. She wants Will to wake up first. She doesn't want to deal with the girl on her own.

She doesn't want to tell her that they are all going to die here.

Turns out, she can't catch a break.

The girl stirs behind her. Quinn kneels next to her head and pushes the hair out of her face. The girl opens her eyes groggily and stares at Quinn for a long moment before she finally speaks, "I've seen you on the news. I guess I was the one who found you."

Quinn smiles slightly despite herself, "I guess so. I'm Quinn. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Becky. Becky Fergusson. Everyone will be looking for me now too, right?"

"Exactly." She doesn't tell Becky that it won't matter. "How old are you, Becky?"

"I'm nine." She sits up and wipes her hands on her knees, "I go to Jefferson but we had today off. I was playing in the park and this man came up behind me and grabbed me. He had a towel that smelled funny. I didn't get to see his face but it must have been the same man that grabbed you."

"You're very well spoken for a nine-year-old." Quinn smiles. She's feeling a little more at ease now but not much. Her eyes glance towards her teacher - laying face down, covered in his own blood.

"Oh, yes! My teachers all say I'm very smart! I love to read! Have you ever heard of Emily Dickinson? She's my absolute favorite. She was different so everyone thought she was crazy but really she was very smart. My dad says her poems are 'a little heavy' for someone my age but I read them anyway." She is talking a mile a minute and seems rather unfazed by their predicament.

Quinn wishes she could be nine too.

"I like Emily Dickinson." She doesn't want to discuss poetry with a child so she changes the subject. "Are you thirsty?"

Becky thinks and then nods her head yes. "My head feels kind of funny. I think I may be dehydrated. That means I need water." She smiles and Quinn looks away from it. She stands and moves towards the sink and Becky's eyes follow her, "Oh my! Is that the bad man who took us?"

She points at Will and Quinn scoffs, "No. He's...that's Will. The man took him too."

"What happened to him?" Becky looks horrified now. The sight of blood will do that to a person.

"He...Will?" Quinn cuts herself off. Will's eyes are open and he is shifting his legs restlessly. Quinn bends down in front of him and puts her face in his field of vision. "Will? Can you hear me?"

He stares at her for a moment before his eyes focus and he lets out a garbled moan. "It hurts."

"I know. I need to sit you up. I need to get your shirt off and get you clean before you get an infection." She runs her fingers through his hair sympathetically. He places his palms on the ground and tries to push himself up.

He raises up about an inch before he cries out and drops himself back down. "I c...I can't."

"Yes, you can. I'm going to help you." Quinn grabs the arm closest to herself and is about to start lifting when she sees Becky approaching slowly.

"I'll help too. I'm very strong for my age." She kneels on the other side of Will and grabs his other arm. Quinn nods and then they both pull him up so that he is kneeling. There are tears on his face and he is shaking.

"Becky, will you wet a blanket and bring it to me? I left one by the sink." Becky nods. She completes her task and is back in under a minute. "Will, we have to get that shirt off but it's stuck to you and it's going to hurt."

He bows his head and nods but she knows he doesn't want to. She pulls up the hem of his shirt and starts tugging it up. When it reaches just above his stomach, she needs to pull to raise it higher. It's stuck to the whip wound that stretches across his abdomen from the bottom of one side of his ribs to the bottom of the other. He screams out before he bites his lip hard to stop himself. Becky stands and pets his hair like one would do for an injured dog. She doesn't know what else to do as the gravity of the situation finally hits her.

_Pretend it's a band-aid._

Quinn grips the fabric hard in her hands and yanks it upwards. Will screams out again as the fabric separates from his skin and reopens the laceration. Blood starts oozing down his torso and Quinn gags at the sight.

It's horrific.

He's gritting his teeth to keep from sobbing. He doesn't make a sound but tears are still streaming down his face.. It's a man thing to do. Quinn would have cried.

_Quinn is crying. _

Becky steps closer and hugs his head in the crock of her elbow. He seems to have finally become aware enough to notice the presence of another person because he noticeably startles. She smiles down at him, "I fell off my bike once and got a wicked gash on my knee. Took six stitches and I got an awesome scar. I'll show it to you when she's done washing that off. That's the worst part. Then it starts to feel better."

He stares at her while she babbles but he noticeably calms. He's still gritting his teeth but his eyes have relaxed and Quinn tells herself silently to thank Becky later. Quinn manages to get his shirt off entirely although it is a struggle and at one point he starts to teeter forward as though he's going to pass out again.

He doesn't.

Thankfully.

As she dabs at his torso, his abs twitch in response each time the blanket comes near. It doesn't take as long to clean up his front as it did to clean up his back but she can tell it hurts worse by the stricken look on his face. When she's done she drops the blanket to the ground, reaches her hands up, and cups his face gently in her palms. His eyes are glassy but he focuses on her. "It'll only hurt for a little while and then we're going to try to get out of here. You, me, and Becky. Right now though I want to get you to the bed. Can you stand?"

He squints his eyes as he tries to focus on her voice. A moment passes and then his lips twitch upwards in a small smile, "If you wanted to get me in bed..." He doesn't finish but she gets the reference. He's mocking her for what she said their first night together here. She returns his smile because she's happy that he's with it enough to make a joke.

Even if it's completely not funny.

Okay...it's a little funny.

She and Becky help him stand and practically drag him over to the bed. He lays on his side to avoid reopening the whip welts again. Becky keeps her promise – rolls up her pant leg and displays a large, jagged scar running across her knee. His lips twitch upwards in a small smile but it will take more strength than he has to talk, so he doesn't.

"We should get some sleep, Becky." Quinn smiles down at her and then guides her over to the second bed. Becky pulls off her windbreaker and lays it aside. She gets herself a drink and uses the bathroom before rushing back over to the bed and hoping under the blanket. Quinn tugs a stray piece of blonde hair behind the girl's ear and pulls the blanket up beneath her chin, "If you need anything, I'm right here. Try to get some sleep."

"Good-night, Quinn." She smiles sweetly and then rolls over. She starts mumbling a prayer under her breath but Quinn distinctly hears her asking for her mother's protection. Quinn feels guilty about not thinking about her own mother.

Their relationship just isn't the same anymore since the pregnancy.

She walks back to the other bed and is surprised to see Will's green eyes looking back at her. She thought he would have passed out in seconds. He's holding himself stiffly because of the pain but that's the only indication that he gives of his discomfort. She crawls up the foot of the bed and lays down, spooning him from behind without actually touching him.

His whip marks are staring her in the face.

"How are you?" She whispers into his back.

"It hurts." He says simply. He didn't divert her question – answered it straight on with no prompting; he must truly be in pain. She reaches her fingers out and rubs small circles on his lower back above the waist band of his jeans. He sucks a breath in through his nose but doesn't say anything. She can tell he wants to say that it's inappropriate but he's too tired and in too much pain to get the protest past his lips. His skin is cold and she drags the blankets over them in an effort to warm him up.

His breathing evens out in sleep after a few short minutes. It only takes a few moments for her to join him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Sorry, reviewer, I'm not adding Klaine to this...? I'm sure you can find 8610237 stories on here to fit your needs though. **

**Enjoy anyway. :p**

***... * … * … * … * … ***

Quinn wakes up first. She can't be sure it's morning because there is no light and the only way to tell time is to turn on the TV and flip to the weather channel. It feels like morning though and so she sits up in bed, careful not to jostle Will from his sleep. He's laying stiffly on his side but his face looks peaceful enough. She's never seen him not clean-shaven before but he has at least four days worth of stubble on his face and...Quinn has to force herself to look away.

She inspects the lacerations on his back and satisfied that they aren't bleeding, she crawls out of bed. She'll have to clean them again later to avoid infection but for now, she's going to let him sleep.

She checks on Becky who is still sleeping soundly – her face hidden behind a mess of hair. She moves to the sink and wets her hair from root to tip before leaving it to air dry. It's greasy and gross – she's never gone more than a couple of days without a shower and she feels like a pig for it.

She glances back at Will and hopes she doesn't smell.

She uses the bathroom and then takes off her borrowed leather jacket before unbuttoning her dress and letting it fall to the floor. She has no soap but she washes up the best she can with just hot water and she feels a bit better afterward for it.

She wishes she had a mirror.

She knows she probably looks like garbage. She feels momentarily guilty for worrying over her appearance while in this place but she can't help it. Her parents engrained the importance of being beautiful in her for so long, she get's nervous without her hair products and make-up.

She pulls her dirty dress and Will's jacket back on before she heads to the couch and curls up to watch TV. The Price is Right is on which means it's almost noon. They must have fallen asleep very late or she slept a lot longer than she thinks.

She's half-way through the episode before Becky plops down next to her. Quinn scoots towards her and uses her fingers to comb through the girl's sleep-rumpled hair. "There isn't much to do. Do you want to watch TV with me?"

Becky nods and then pulls away, "I have to use the bathroom first." She pauses, "Don't look! My little brother is always trying to peep. I hate it!" Quinn rolls her eyes but smiles as the girl moves to the other side of the room. She's only gone a few moments before she's back. "I'm hungry."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm starving but there isn't anything to eat here. Try drinking water until your belly is full." Becky gets up again and does as she's told. Quinn doesn't tell her that the water trick stopped working the second day. Her own stomach is empty and feels like it's shrinking but there is nothing she can do about it.

She turns back to the TV but a creaking noise at the stairs draws her attention. Her stomach drops as she sees the boots on the stairs. She stands and runs for the sink, grabbing Becky and pulling her to stand next to the bed. Will is still sleeping. She goes to shake him awake but then drops her hand. He can't take another beating.

She can't take being here without him.

She pushes Becky behind her and stands tall. The man appears in front of them a few seconds later. His face isn't twisted in anger this time and Quinn doesn't know what to do with that. She says nothing.

"We're having our family dinner tonight." He smiles and Quinn wants to gag but doesn't, "I'm going to get pizza because pizza is Kathy's favorite. Do you want soda, mom?"

Quinn knows he is talking to her so she she swallows hard and works up the courage to open her mouth, "Whatever you'd like is fine."

He smiles wider at that, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners in delight, "You never let me choose! This is going to be great! We're going to have so much..." His eyes go from Quinn to Will laying prone on the bed, "What happened to Dad?!"

Quinn resists the urge to yell, "He...he had an accident."

"Oh my gosh! Dad has been so clumsy lately! I'll be right back!" He turns and rushes back up the stairs.

Quinn turns around and grips Becky by the shoulders, "Don't be scared. Whatever he does, I'll try to protect you."

"What will he do? He doesn't seem so bad." She shrugs nonchalantly as if she's talking about a strange dog and not a serial killer.

"It's an act. He's..." but she doesn't have time to finish because he's back on the stairs and then back in front of them holding a mid-sized cardboard box. Quinn has to fight to stay rooted to the spot she's in and not run away.

"I got the medicine box. There's lots of stuff in here for you to fix him up. I don't want him to miss our dinner!" He holds out the box and Quinn reluctantly takes it. "There's some soup and crackers in there too for lunch but don't spoil your dinner!" He laughs.

"I...we...we won't." She pauses, "Thank you." He doesn't like it when they don't say thank you.

Becky steps out from behind Quinn before Quinn can drop the box and stop her. She points at Will. "You know you did that right?"

The monster stares at Will and then at Becky. He visibly becomes enraged – his hands balling into fists, "Don't you talk to me like that! I'm your big brother! I don't care if Mom and Dad don't love me as much! You will respect me!" He holds up his hand but Quinn sees it coming. She steps between them and then there is a sharp pain across her cheek. Becky flinches and hides behind her.

"Don't!"

Quinn spins her head around. Will is struggling to sit up on the bed. His arms are shaking and he's gritting his teeth against the pain he's obviously feeling.

The monster looks at Will and then Quinn and then turns and stalks back upstairs. The door slams shut behind him. There is a silence that settles over them for a long moment. Will finally makes it to a sitting position but he's wobbly and his eyes look unfocused. "Why didn't you wake me up?" He doesn't mean for it to come out as rough as it does but he doesn't apologize for it.

Quinn raises her hand to her stinging cheek. "I...I...and what would you have done!? Look at you! You can't even sit up!" She shouts in his face and his eyebrows go up as he draws back a bit. She stares at his eyes – there is some emotion there...hurt or confusion. She doesn't care. She wants to slap him like the man slapped her. She wants to hurt him.

Her eyes go wide and then fill with tears. She runs to the couch, hides her face, and sobs.

She's a monster.

She can hear Becky and Will across the room and she wants to turn on the TV to drown out their voices but she doesn't. That would be childish. They leave her alone for a long time. She hears Becky giggle at something he says.

She wants to giggle too.

An hour must have passed before Becky cautiously approaches her, "I brought you some of the soup from the box. It's okay to drink because it's one of those sealed plastic containers, see? The kind you drink out of. My mom doesn't let me have these usually but it's okay. It's tomato, see?" She holds out the container of tomato soup and smiles innocently.

This is Will's doing. He sent her over here with the damn soup. She takes it and resists the urge to throw it at him. She doesn't understand why she is so angry and why it is directed at him.

_Why does he have to be so nice?!_

Becky smiles and walks back to the beds. She can hear them talking again. Becky giggles.

They're laughing at her.

She stands and stomps over to them and points her finger in Will's face.

He raises his hands out of instinct and flinches back and the anger draws out of her.

"We were playing rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock. Were we too loud?" Becky asks meekly. She scoots closer to Will and Quinn drops to sit on the foot of the bed.

Silence falls again.

"I'm sorry for whatever..." he starts but Quinn raises her hand to silence him.

"Stop it. You didn't do anything. I don't know why I'm so angry."

"Because you feel powerless so you're lashing out." His voice is quiet, as if he doesn't want to scare her away. "I used to, when I was a kid I mean...I used to break my mom's lawn ornaments when I was angry with her. She went through a lot of lawn ornaments..."

"I hide my dad's TV remote." Becky adds quietly. "He watches a lot of TV sometimes and he ignores me..."

"And what did your mom do? Not cut the crusts off of your PB and J?" She stares him in the eye and he looks down sadly.

"No. She had...has...a drinking problem." He pauses and glances at Becky, "I don't want to talk about it."

She lets it drop.

Silence stretches again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry to both of you."

Silence.

"Do you want to play with us? It's not a hard game to learn..." Becky tries hopefully after a minute and Quinn smiles slightly at her in response.

"Yes. After. Someone needs to get cleaned up first." She nudges Will in the arm and he turns his head to look at her.

"You have a black eye." He reaches out and runs his fingertips very lightly across her cheek, "The bones don't feel broken."

Quinn reaches up and grabs his hand gently. They stare at each other for a moment before Quinn drops his hand and slides to the floor, "Let's check out what's in the box."

Will doesn't say that he and Becky already looked through it. He doesn't want her to yell at him again.

Rubbing alcohol, saline, 3 rolls of bandages, band-aids, a half-full bottle of over-the-counter ibuprofen, 2 boxes of Ritz crackers,10 Cambell's drinkable soup cups...

And 3 bars of soap.

Quinn's eyes tear up again. Will notices the tears and scoots away a few inches, afraid she's about to yell again. She looks up at him and laughs as she holds up the soap, "Bath time tonight."

Quinn has Becky wet a blanket and then she cleans his lacerations with soap and saline before wrapping them in bandages. It's not ideal but it will do.

They make it up to best out of 61 of the game before Becky calls it quits. Quinn helps Will to the couch and the three of them watch Shrek on the TV. A few months ago, she would have given anything to be sitting on a couch in her own apartment with Puck and their daughter.

The fact that she is now having family movie night with a man and a little girl is not lost on her. It's a different man and a different little girl here now but she feels a part of something. A family. As pathetic as that may sound in the current situation...

Quinn sits in the middle and by the time the movie is half through, Will's asleep. Quinn finds herself watching him sleep more than she is watching the movie. She reaches out and touches his cheek with her fingertips but then pulls her hand back. There are butterflies in her belly and she can't stop staring at his face.

She can't do this.

She can't let herself feel like this.

The movie has just finished when the door creaks behind them.


	11. Chapter 11

**_October 4__th__, 2010_**

Finn doesn't want to be quarter back this year.

It's just another thing on a long list of things that have changed...things that suck.

So Puck has been promoted to the role of QB by their new football coach. Coach Bieste is kind of a bitch. She doesn't care that...well, that everything that has happened, happened. She doesn't care that Brittany is dead. She doesn't care that Mr. Schuester is missing. She doesn't care that Quinn...

Quinn.

So she doesn't care that today would have been Brittany's birthday and she doesn't care that half the team is on the verge of tears all day or that there is a candlelight vigil tonight at six. She makes them run anyway. Wind sprints and then a five mile jog.

Maybe she's one of those sadists who think if you keep your body occupied, your mind won't have time to dwell on dead cheerleaders or missing Spanish teachers or...or...Quinn.

That shit doesn't work because his mind is still going there even though he's running harder than he's ever run before. His mind still knows that Brittany is dead in the ground and that the chances of Quinn not being dead are slim to none.

He runs harder.

He runs past Karofsky and Azimio and Mike Chang and then pumps his legs harder.

Even Karofsky and Azimio have changed. They stopped tormenting the dweebs and Hummel. They've stopped talking shit about Glee club and Cheerios. They show up to class and keep their mouths shut.

Everyone keeps their mouth shut. Everyone walks on egg shells. There are no more pep rallies, no more dances, no more field trips.

Figgins tried to keep everyone involved. Thirty kids showed up to the first pep rally of the year and half of those left by the end of it.

He stopped trying after that.

Puck hasn't been to Spanish class all year. He walked by the first day and saw some blonde haired chick standing at the front of the classroom taking attendance. She looked up and smiled. He gave her the finger and walked away. She didn't tell Figgins. He still hates her. Hates her for standing where Schue stood. _Where he should still be standing._

A few Cheerios run by him going in the opposite direction. There is a pretty Sophomore with green eyes and blonde hair leading the pack. An image of another girl with blonde hair and green eyes invades his mind and his eyes sting.

He hides his face and runs faster - his feet pounding on the pavement as his heart pounds in his chest. He can't hear Azimio, Chang, or Karofsky any more. The cars blur as they pass by and he realizes it's because there are tears in his eyes.

He swipes them away.

He doesn't cry. He is Puckzilla.

He's about to turn around, run back in the opposite direction. Return home. Something on the wood line catches his eye and he slows his legs a bit as he passes. A red and white lump. Garbage?

He turns to run back. Something isn't right. He can feel. He slows to a walk, breathing hard – sucking in air greedily. The chill in the air burns his lungs.

The tears that were in his eyes are still stinging.

He stares at the lump and he isn't sure what compels him to move forward but he does. He's only a couple of feet away when he realizes that the lump of red is a person laying face down in the dead leaves. The body mostly obscured by the overlaying branches in the woods.

A person in a white t-shirt and jeans that are drenched in blood.

A person with curly hair...Mr. Schuester.

He screams. An animalistic, guttural scream that rips its why from his lungs. He drops to his knees and crawls forward. He reaches his hand out to turn the body – he needs to see.

He can hear Azimio, Chang, and Karofsky now. They're behind him and one of them, he's not sure which, is screaming to call the police.

The police can't come until he sees because he knows that whatever happened to Schuester must have happened to Quinn and...and...

He grabs the blood covered shirt and tugs the body towards himself. When he sees the green eyes of his Glee coach open and blink slowly at him, he screams again.

He's alive.

_He's alive even if barely._

_...Maybe Quinn is alive._

He moves forward, closer to the man on the ground, and grips his hand. It's freezing and sticky with blood but he holds tight, "It's okay, Mr. Schue. Help is coming. Hold on. Hold on!"


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you for all your lovely words. I truly appreciate the kindness. :) This chapter is bordering on M at the end but I don't think it's quite there. If you don't like blood, don't read. **

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_**July**_

"Time to get ready for dinner," The monster sing-songs as he comes down the stairs. Quinn shakes Will awake and the three of them turn on the couch and watch as their tormentor bounds down the steps carrying a black travel bag and a folded table. "Set the table up, Kathy! This is going to be great! But of course we need to get ready first because we can't have a dinner the way we are." He laughs breathlessly and pats Becky on the back as she takes the table and starts to unfold the legs.

Will stands and moves a step closer.

"You guys aren't even dressed and you need to take a bath and Dad needs to shave...and Mom too! And Kathy needs her dress! Oh! We're going to have a late dinner for sure." He puts the travel bag on the table and starts rummaging through it. He pulls out a straight razor and a bottle of shaving cream. Will moves closer to Quinn and Becky as the man approaches with the blade stuck out. "I'll give Dad a quick shave while Mom and Becky wash their hair and get their dresses on!"

"I don't have a dress." Becky says ruefully and the man stares at her a moment before grinning, his crooked yellow teeth poking out between his lips slightly.

"They're in the closet, silly! Pick out whatever you like! Pick one for Mom too!" He reaches forward and grabs Will be the wrist. Will allows himself to be led forward because that's all he can do. The man pushes him down gently so that he's sitting on the closed toilet seat. "Mom! Becky! Wash your hair! The shampoo is in the bag!"

Quinn grabs Becky's hand and pulls her close. She approaches the bag as if it's going to blow up.

It doesn't.

There is shampoo. There is also toothpaste, toothbrushes, towels, and a really crappy disposable razor. She picks up the shampoo and approaches the sink, afraid to be so close to the monster but slightly relieved to be closer to Will.

Quinn watches for a second as the man lathers up Will's face. His green eyes find her own and he smiles slightly – the corners of his lips quirking ever so slightly upward. She's not sure what that look means but she doesn't like the sight of the razor in the monster's hand and so she turns and focuses on Becky's hair instead. She wets it as best she can in the sink, scrubs it clean, and then rinses it.

An image of the monster slitting Will's throat pops into her mind and she turns to look at them. Will is staring up at the ceiling – his face half-shaved. His throat not slit. His face looks perfectly blank but as she looks away, she notices his hand on his leg is shaking slightly.

She washes her own hair.

The monster is behind her without her realizing it. He hands each of them a small towel from the black bag. She didn't see him move and that worries her.

Will's face is now clean-shaven. He won't meet her eyes.

"Now Dad needs to wash his hair and Mom and Becky need to clean up and everyone needs to get dressed and I need to order the pizza and...there is just so much to do!" He sounds like he is getting frustrated. There is an edge to his voice.

Will stands. He faces the monster and smiles slightly again, "Mom is shy. I think she'd like it if she could wash her and Becky up alone. Girl time."

The monster narrows his eyes but then shockingly, returns the smile, "Of course! Mom was always shy! Okay...make sure you are all ready and dressed when I get back! I don't want to have to wait!" He caresses his hand along Will's now-smooth face and then turns and leaves. Will stares straight ahead as he does it. Quinn looks away.

She doesn't like the implications of that gesture.

"I can't believe that worked but thank you." Quinn breathes out as soon as he's gone. She's immensely relieved that she's not going to have to take her clothes off with the psychopath in the room.

"Yeah, well, I don't think he'd go to the trouble of not cutting my throat if he intended to..." His eyes flick to Becky and he drops his train of thought and grins instead, "So what beautiful frock are you ladies wearing to the ball?"

Becky giggles. Quinn rolls her eyes, grabs Becky's hand, and pulls her to the wardrobe full of musty clothes, "Don't worry, I'll choose the gentleman's outfit too."

Will turns towards the sink and evil eyes the shampoo bottle before picking it up and reading the label, "Please, nothing that will make me look too fat. I don't want to be the chubby step-sister."

She snorts at his joke as her eyes go from his face to his abs. She ignores the whip mark that cuts an ugly line across his ribs. If he's fat, she's a porker. A porker with stretch marks and a few pounds of baby weight that won't go away and...

She frowns as her mind obsessively goes to her looks again. He wouldn't call her fat.

Puck might.

She chooses their clothes as he washes and dries his hair. They take turns washing up with soap as the other two sit on the couch. When it's Quinn turn, she can hear Becky across the room trying to teach Will how to play 'Down, down baby'. He fails miserably.

She snickers to herself.

It takes about half an hour before they are all clean and dressed. Quinn has never been so happy to shave her legs in her life even though she has to do it with a dollar store razor that would have a hard time cutting paper. Her dress is too big in the middle and too long at the knee but it almost fits. Becky's dress fits surprisingly well but it's dated right out of the mid-90's. Will's jeans are surprisingly the right length for his long legs but much too big at the waist. He uses his own belt to keep them up. He hisses as he pulls on the shirt and it rubs against his back. It's too loose but he's thankful of that. Quinn offers him some of the ibuprofen from the medicine box but he turns them down.

She doesn't push. She'll make him take them later.

It's another half an hour before the monster is back. Before he arrives, Will warns them to let the man take a bite of whatever he brings down first just to make sure it's safe Quinn warns Becky to be on her best behavior.

Her eye still stings from the last time Becky talked back.

True to his word, the monster is carrying a large pizza box in one hand and a 2 liter bottle of Coke in the other. Will momentarily debates trying to rush him. Knock him over. Steal the gun he knows is in his pocket.

He doesn't.

Too many things could go wrong. His back is still injured and he hasn't really eaten in days– he's not as fast or as strong as he would like. He could miss. He could easily be over powered. Becky could get hurt. Or Quinn.

He can't.

He's too wrapped up in his own thoughts and doesn't realize the man has spoken to him until Quinn nudges him. He smiles slightly and nods despite not knowing what was said. Apparently a nod was sufficient because Monster smiles at him as he puts the pizza box and soda on the folding table.

"Don't you all look fantastic! Just like Mom and Dad and Kathy! And I got Kathy's favorite meal! This is the start of something great, I call tell!" He claps his hands like a little kid and Quinn cringes and resists the urge to mutter 'freak'.

He hasn't brought chairs so they have to move the table to the couch. Quinn sits next to Will with Becky on her right side and Monster on Will's left. She's thankful the couch is rather long but it still has to be the most awkward dinner in human history.

Monster gets through an entire slice of pizza before Will takes a bite of his own and then nods to Quinn and Becky to do the same. No one speaks. Quinn wants to turn on the TV. She used to do the same to cover up awkward silences in her own home when she was little.

The awkwardness of this situation puts anything from her childhood to shame.

"Did you love your treat?" Monster asks as soon as the pizza is gone.

Will nods and smiles, answering for them, "It was delicious. Thank you."

He glares a little as he picks up the box and half-empty soda bottle, "Next time I'll bring Dad's favorite and a board game. Mom always liked playing board games with Kathy and Brian. Why didn't she like playing with me?"

He mumbles as he walks back up the stairs, slamming the door as he leaves. Will turns to Quinn and Becky and smiles once again. Quinn wants to smack him but she doesn't. "That went well."

"Yeah. Perfect." She rolls her eyes, stands, and tugs Becky to her feet. "You're going to bed in case he comes back later. You need to sleep."

"That guy is a freaking wierdo." Becky grumbles, "You should be proud of me for not telling him that. My dad says I have kind of a big mouth..."

"Oh, I'm so proud." She answers and then glares at Will. He shrugs and lays down on the couch as she pulls Becky to the beds and tucks her in.

"At least we got pizza out of it," Becky shrugs before turning over.

Quinn moves back to the couch and smacks his legs so he'll move them and she can sit. She remains quiet until she hears Becky's breath even out in sleep. "I'm glad you find eating dinner with a serial killer funny."

"What would you have me do?" He turns his head slightly so he can stare at her around his knees.

"Oh, I don't know. Do something besides smile and nod." She folds her arms over her chest and glares at him, "Shouldn't we be thinking about a way to get out of here?"

"I'm all ears," He mumbles, obviously sarcastically. She resists the urge to smack him again.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to wait down here until he slaughters us. Maybe we could turn something into a weapon..."

"Like fold the soap into one of the towels and use it as a club? My belt? Becky's shoe laces? Strangle him with a blanket? Push him down the stairs? Throw the TV?" He sits up slowly and for the first time here, he actually looks slightly angry, "He's bigger than me and I can hardly move right now. There is no point. He'd just get up and go after you or Becky and I'm not having that on my mind."

"Perfect. Then sit there and do nothing." She raises her voice and sits forward so that there is only a couple of inches between their faces.

"Isn't it past your bedtime, Quinn?" He narrows his eyes and then lays back down, essentially ending their discussion - at least on his end.

She isn't having it though.

"Yeah, okay, you don't want to do your job as a man so you pretend like I'm a little kid. That's fant..." She cuts herself off when he rises abruptly and starts stalking towards the far end of the room to get away from her. She stands and is about to follow him. About to say whatever mean thing that can come to her mind when the door at the top of the stairs is slammed open and then shut again. The man barrels down the stairs with a look of pure rage on his face. Will yelps in surprise as he is grabbed by the arms and his feet are knocked out from beneath him, sending him to the ground hard.

The man immediately starts ripping and tearing at Will's shirt and Will struggles - fights with everything he has. He punches and thrashes and kicks his legs.

Monster punches him hard in the face and all he can see is stars and red and then he can't breathe. Monster squeezes his neck until the fight goes out of him and then he lets go - laughing, "Stay still or I will let you choose which one I gut in front of you."

Becky screams – keeps screaming, and Quinn knows she should go to her but she can't. Can't move. She's rooted in place.

Monster flips Will over onto his stomach, sits on his lower back, and yanks his shirt down so that his shoulders are exposed, "Remember when you used to do this to me, Dad? Mom didn't do anything to stop you just like she's not doing anything to stop me!" He slides a cigarette lighter out of his pocket and then lights it.

Quinn watches - can't look away from the flame. It's reflected in the monster's dark eyes and it's all she can look at. He keeps the lighter lit until it's too hot to hold and then he lets the flame go out. He smiles sadistically just before he touches the hot metal to Will's shoulder blade just along the outer edge of one of the whip lacerations.

Will cries out in agony.

Quinn has never heard a human being make such a sound. She wants to cover her ears.

She hears it again...and again...and again...13 times in all before the man gets up and moves away. As he passes by Quinn he stops and smiles at her, "Now Dad and I match." He pulls up his sleeve and shows her a mess of old scars on his forearm.

Quinn backs away but it doesn't matter. He's back up the stairs in a hurry and then they are alone again. Becky has stopped screaming but is now sobbing. Will is laying still on the floor not making a sound.

Quinn moves forward and slowly drops to her knees next to him. His nose is bloodied, his back is a mess of burned skin, and there is already a visible bruise on his neck. He is blinking slowly and Quinn can tell he's trying to stay awake.

Trying in vain.

Becky silently fetches a wet towel and then Quinn dabs at the burns with the cloth. He's unconscious seconds after she starts.

She sends Becky back to bed when she is through and listens as the girl cries herself to sleep. She once again sits next to Will, waiting for him to wake up.

She doesn't sleep at all that night.


	13. Chapter 13

**No violence today. :)**

*** … * … * … * … * … ***

Quinn's legs are numb from being on the cold ground and her back hurts by the time Will finally wakes. He pulls his legs up suddenly and she's forced to lean forward quickly as he struggles to his knees. She bites her lip nervously, "Do you need help?"

He twists his head slightly to the side to look at her. Dried blood paints a grotesque splatter painting across the bottom half of his face. His hands are resting on his thighs and he's breathing deeply – trying to control the churning in his stomach. He narrows his eyes at her but says nothing. Instead, he pushes himself up to his feet and walks the short distance to the "bathroom". She is surprised that he's back on his feet so quickly but slightly angry that he didn't answer her.

He kneels and vomits into the toilet a moment later and her guilt rises and causes her own stomach to somersault.

She wants to go to him. Wants to hug him and say she's sorry and tell him that she didn't mean anything she said. That she was just angry. That she should have fought with the Monster. Wants him to hug her back and say that he understands and it's alright.

None of that happens.

She watches as he stands and washes the blood from his face. A pool of pink staining the bottom of the sink. He's only using his left hand and it occurs to her that it's because Monster only burned his right shoulder. He can't or won't move his right arm.

She swallows and turns away. Becky is still sleeping and she watches the blanket rise and fall with her breathing. Several minutes pass by before he walks slowly past her and lays gingerly down on the bed, face down. He's taken off the ripped and bloodied shirt and his hair is wet. He must have washed up.

A minute or two passes before he turns his head towards her. She can barely see the white of his eyes in the dim light but she can tell he's looking at her. His voice is so low she has to struggle to hear him. "If you sit there all night, you'll be feeling it in the morning."

It's not quite an invitation to come to bed but she takes it that way.

She gets up stiffly, her muscles protesting as she moves, and walks slowly across the room to use the bathroom. When she is through, she rinses out an empty soup container and fills it with water. She fishes through the medicine box and pulls out the ibuprofen before heading to the bed. She sits at the very edge until she feels him shift closer to the wall to make room for her – another not-quite-invitation. She turns around to face him and holds out the water to him. He stares at her hand and then flicks his eyes to her face.

She doesn't think he's going to take it. Wonders if he's being stubborn because of their argument earlier.

He slowly pushes himself up and takes the container and pill bottle from her. He swallows four pills at once and then moves to get up to dispose of the remaining water.

_Stubborn indeed._

She pulls the container from his hand and puts it on the floor next to the bed along with the bottle of pills. He lays down again without comment.

She lays down next to him and stares at the back of his head. She never really gave it any thought before but he must have just cut his hair before...before they ended up here. It's much shorter than it was the last day of school. It looks soft and she has to resist the urge to touch it.

She wonders if he thinks her hair looks soft too.

She clears her throat slightly, "I'm...I'm sorry I said what I did. I was just – I have no idea. I didn't mean it though."

He turns his head and looks at her but it's as though he's looking right through her. Like he can see every bad thought and memory that is churning through her head. His eyes move to her hand and he slides his own slowly along the bed until it reaches hers.

He interlaces their fingers and then turns his head back towards the wall again.

She snuggles next to his arm and closes her eyes.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Will is still asleep when Quinn wakes up but Becky is awake and watching TV across the room. Quinn gets up carefully and moves across the room to sit with the girl. Becky looks up, startled, but then smiles slightly. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. He should be fine." She snuggles into the side of the couch as Becky moves and leans against her. They sit like that until the end of Pokemon.

Quinn hates this show but she doesn't say anything about it.

Stupid Pikachu.

They take turns washing up and getting changed back into their own clothing. Quinn wants to wash her clothes with a bar of soap but she'll wait until night. They share a tomato soup and then start a marathon game of twenty questions.

Will sleeps most of that day and the next. Quinn wakes him up a couple of times to clean his back with soap and water and then he lays back down. He doesn't really say anything to either of them but he doesn't seem angry - just groggy.

Quinn and Becky spend both days the same way...TV, clean up, hand games, soup, TV, hand games, more soup, more TV, bed. Quinn does manage to get her dress and underwear scrubbed and hung up to dry.

She's glad Will is sleeping so she doesn't have to feel the embarrassment of him seeing her...under garments. She gets red as she thinks about it.

She shows Becky how to get the water in the sink sudsy using the bar of soup and Becky cleans her clothes as well. Quinn finds a couple of plain white t-shirts in the wardrobe and she cleans those and Will's jeans for him for when he wakes up.

She feels much better with clean clothes.

Monster only comes back once. He stares at each of them for a long moment before dropping a large box full of soup containers on the ground and leaving.

Quinn is once again rooted in place when she sees him. So is Becky. Will sleeps through it.

She vaguely wonders if he's a deep sleeper always or if it's because there is something wrong with him. Maybe he's hit his head too much? Maybe his lacerations and burns are becoming infected? She stares at him across the room willing him to move. He doesn't. She stops watching him sleep.

She also wonders how long Monster intends to keep them.

She and Becky count the soup containers. Apparently he plans on keeping them long enough to enjoy 78 cups of Cambell's soup. Where would someone even buy that much soup? Did he have a coupon?

The third morning after the lighter incident, she wakes to find Becky still asleep and Will sitting on the couch in his clean jeans and a white t-shirt. When he sees her, he smiles and she knows all is forgiven. She tucks herself next to his side and they watch the news together.

The new's caster interviews Bryan Ryan who announces himself as the best friend of Will Schuester.

Will snorts loudly. Quinn giggles.

They turn off the TV when Becky gets up – mutually agreeing that she doesn't need to see the news.

"You wouldn't think it would be so boring being kidnapped," Becky whines after they've eaten their soup and watched The Price is Right.

"I officially hate television." Will grumbles under his breath.

Quinn nudges him in the side and acts offended. "Tuesday morning TV is the best. Judge Judy, The Price is Right, and Spanish Sesame Street – what's not to love?!"

"No me gusta la televisión." He slumps against the back of the couch and pouts.

Becky smiles wide, "Oh, you speak Spanish! I'm starting it this year! I hope to be fluent by the end of forth grade."

"Buena suerte con eso." He pats her head and then stands.

"Will you teach me some? I always get a head start with my work but..." She bites her bottom lip and narrows her eyes in annoyance, "I won't even be able to finish my summer reading."

Quinn wants to scold her for worrying about such silly things but then she remembers that Becky is nine and probably thinks that the police are going to come barreling through the door at any moment to rescue them.

Quinn knows this isn't going to end that way.

Will nods his head absently, distracted by something across the room. Quinn is about to ask him what's wrong when a huge smile spreads across his face, "I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you going to live your life right," He sings and then looks at Quinn. She rolls her eyes and sits back but he doesn't seem to mind. He holds out his hand to Becky and she takes it although she looks a bit confused. He continues to sing as he pulls her to a large empty area across the room.

The same part of the room where Monster burned him.

He spins Becky around and she laughs. He's not break-dancing like he does in Glee. He's not even dancing well although he is moving both his arms again. He twirls Becky about as he sings and she follows his lead as he breaks out every dorky dance move that pops into his head.

Quinn wants to dance too but she stays sitting.

He finishes Cyndi Lauper and launches right into "Mony Mony". Becky is loving it. Quinn catches herself smiling at the girl's enthusiasm.

"Wake me, shake me, Mony Mony, Shot gun dead and I'll come on Mony..." He gives Becky a big twirl before looking over at Quinn and raising his eyebrows. He sways his hips as he saunters over to her, singing the entire time.

She's rooted in spot for a different reason. Her stomach flutters at the way his legs are moving.

He pulls her up and drags her across the room. He takes turns twirling them both around as he sings. Quinn can't help laughing when he dips her and then yanks her back up. Their dancing is wild and without reason.

Quinn loves it.

He's slightly out of breath as he finishes the song but he smiles wide at Becky, "Who's your favorite singer?"

She's still smiling toothily as a pink blush creeps up her cheeks, "Miley Cyrus is kind of my thing."

"Hannah Montana!? You want me to admit to knowing a Miley song?!" He laughs loudly and Becky joins him – giggling with her hand over her mouth.

Quinn searches her mind to think of a Miley Cyrus song. She doesn't want this to end.

He launches into "7 Things" before Quinn gets a chance to think of one. She wonders if there is a song that he doesn't know. Becky laughs even harder than before as he quick steps her across the room. Quinn joins in the singing, swinging her hair around.

Hairography at it's finest.

They get through Sk8ter Boi, Mickey, Footloose, I Wanna Dance With Somebody, and Shout before he's too out of breath to move anymore. Becky is all smiles and giggles and Quinn is feeling euphoric.

It was just what they needed.

She hugs him tight even though he is sweaty, careful not to hurt him. He laughs as he hugs her back. Becky launches herself at them and makes it a group hug.

They take turns washing up at the sink. Quinn doesn't even mind that she's going to have to clean their clothes again. Despite where they are, that was the most fun she's has in a while. They watch Jeopardy as they eat and then together, they put Becky to bed. Will sings quietly to her – Three Little Birds, as Quinn brushes back her hair with her finger tips. She's tucked in and asleep fairly quickly and Quinn muses that this is what she's missing since giving up her daughter. She chokes on a sob and avoids his confused eyes as she moves to the couch and buries her face in her hands.

She feels him sit next to her a few minutes later.

"Quinn..." His voice is soft and gentle.

She doesn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry I helped your wife trick you." She whispers, still hiding her face.

There is a long pause and then she hears him sigh, "I don't blame you for that. Terri was...is kind of crazy. She took advantage of you."

"I miss my baby." She whispers again. She's never admitted it out loud.

Spent a good amount of time trying not to admit it to herself.

She feels him slide closer to her and then his arm is around her shoulder and she loses it. She cries for the longest time – great, heaving, ugly sobs that wrack her body. He doesn't say anything – let's her soak his shirt with her tears and remains quiet.

She's thankful for that.

When she's cried herself out fully, he stands and holds his hand out to her. She looks up at him and he gives her a ghost of a smile. She takes his hand, fully expecting him to put her to bed.

He doesn't.

He pulls her against his chest and hugs her gently. She returns the hug, her arms loose around his waist, and when he starts to move his feet back and forth slowly, she does so too. He starts to hum quietly in her ear as he sways her back and forth. "I've been roaming around, I was looking down at all I see. Painted faces fill the places I can't reach. You know that I can use somebody. You know that I can use somebody. Someone like you..."

He squeezes her tighter and she rests her head against his chest. His heart beat lends the percussion to the song.

She closes her eyes.

"And all you know and how you speak. Countless lovers under cover of the street. You know that I could use somebody. You know that I could use somebody. Someone like you..."

Her tears start again. He sings the song softly and sweetly. Transferring the rock tune into a sweet melody meant just for her.

She needs something that is meant for just her.

"Someone like you. Off in the night while you live it up, I'm off to sleep. Waging wars to shake the poet and the beat. I hope it's going to make you notice. I hope it's going to make you notice, someone like me..."

He kisses the top of her head and then rests his cheek against it.

"I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready now. I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready now. I was roaming around, I was looking down at all I see."

He finishes singing but continues to rock her until she stops crying again and then they just stand. Her head against his chest. His arms holding her tightly.

"Your hair is really soft." He breathes out quietly.

She sniffles and then giggles, immediately recalling her earlier train of thought about his hair.

Her clothes are dirty. Her hair hasn't seen conditioner or a flat iron in too long. She doesn't have her mom or her friends or Cheerios or school.

Every moment could bring a mad man down the stairs to bring their demise.

But here, in this moment, wrapped up in his arms feels like bliss to her.

She ignores the little voice in her mind that tells her she's screwed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Present Time**

Quinn taps her pencil against the desk and chews on the string of her baggy sweatshirt as her tutor drones on about the Korean war. She already knows everything that comes out of his mouth but she plays dumb.

She doesn't want to go back to a full schedule of classes yet.

He dismisses her to lunch and she ducks her head to avoid seeing the stares she gets as she walks down the hallway. She stands out less now that the bruises have faded but she's unwillingly become a local celebrity.

_The one that got away._

_One of two._

_One half of..._

She bumps into Finn's back accidentally, breaking her train of thought. He opens his mouth to say something but rushes away instead. He won't talk to her. Won't look at her.

She gets that from a lot of people.

She sees Mercedes and Kurt down the hall and moves towards them. They don't ignore her or stare at her or push her to speak.

She is eternally grateful for both of them.

Santana glares at her as she passes. She does that a lot. They haven't spoken but Quinn can see the hatred in her eyes. Or is it pain? She blames her for Brittany. She wants Brittany here and Quinn in the ground.

Sometimes Quinn wants that too. Thinks it would be easier.

Kurt and Mercedes link arms with her as soon as she reaches them. They use it as a show of solidarity. A circle of protection. Sometimes it helps.

They eat lunch together with Artie, Tina, and Mike in the choir room because it's private and empty and she can eat without feeling dozens of eyes on the back of her head. She enjoys listening to their conversations but doesn't join in. Kurt rubs circles on her back every time Quinn finds herself staring at the empty swivel chair next to the piano.

If she closes her eyes she can picture _him_ sitting there. Her eyes sting.

This is her daily life.

This is her _normal life._

She finishes lunch, says good-bye, and returns to the small room she shares with her tutor. She listens half-heartedly until he dismisses her for the day.

Normally she would make her way through Cheerios practice in a daze. It's easier since Santana quit - she didn't want to be on the team without Brittany. She doesn't ask to be head cheerleader. She's happy to blend in with the group. She never meets Coach Sylvester's eyes when she asks how Quinn is doing.

Practice is canceled for the day.

She drives herself home. Ignores her mother's sympathetic gaze. Chokes back a dinner that she doesn't really want to eat. Goes to her room, wraps herself up in a beat up leather jacket that still smells like _him_, and then lays on her bed and stares out the window until sleep welcomes her.

She wakes up the next day and does it all over again.

* … * … * … * … * … *

His mother has forgotten about him.

He sent her a text yesterday and asked for a ride and she promised she'd remember.

His mother has forgotten about him which means she's drunk...which means his dad is probably at work or drunk himself. There is no point in calling. Neither of his parents have been over since he's been home from the hospital.

That's fine.

Well, it would be fine except he no longer has a car and his stitches need to come out. They were due to be out a few days ago but he couldn't muster up the will to find a way to the doctor's office. They're itchy now though. They're itchy and it feels as though his skin is trying to crawl its way off of his body and he wants them out.

Who can he call?

He's received 'get well' calls and texts from most of the staff at McKinley. Concerned voices and words wishing him well and hoping for a speedy recovery and telling him that if he needs anything all he has to do is pick up the phone.

He hasn't picked up the phone.

The lady next door has been sliding his mail under the door for weeks and he now has dozens of cards from college friends, family members, students, parents, and former colleagues. He's stacked them in a box and shoved them under his bed.

If they knew what he was they wouldn't have called.

They wouldn't have sent cards.

They wouldn't care at all.

He rubs his back against the back of the couch as he stares at the phone.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Sue is enjoying her protein shake a bit too much. She's added cinnamon. A useless additive yes but, tasty none-the-less. She has a long day ahead of her and she needs a little treat. Pep rally, followed by Cheerios auditions to replace Amanda Anderson (who broke her ankle a few days beforehand), followed by an extra long practice, followed by a football game...and then she can go home.

Finally.

It's a surprise when her phone rings. It's lunch time and usually people know better than to call her at lunch time. She pulls out her cell and checks the caller I.D.

She almost drops the phone in surprise.

She quickly answers and even though her heart is thumping a little too quickly in her chest, she keeps her voice calm."William."

"I...sorry...I shouldn't have..." His voice is very quiet as if he's talking to himself.

"William, what do you need?" She presses. He needs someone to push him.

Across the room, she notices Emma turn her head to stare.

"I...I...I just..."

"Go ahead." Almost there, she can sense it.

"My mom is drunk." He says simply in the same quiet voice.

"Oh." It wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She doesn't know what she was expecting to hear.

"She is...she was supposed to bring me..." His voice is scratchy, like he hasn't used it in a very long time.

"She didn't pick you up." Now she can almost see where this is going. Her heart flutters a little bit harder.

"I...my back is itchy." He is still quiet. Hesitant. But there is a small amount of _something_ there. Hope?

"You need your stitches out." Her eyes flick up. Emma is still staring at her. She wants to take the phone and leave the room. Hide him from her prying. "I'm at school, William."

There is a long pause and she thinks he's hung up but then his voice is back, "I'm sorry. I forgot it...it's a school day. I should have..."

"What time is your appointment?" She interrupts. She'll make her excuses to Figgins. Cheerios can wait until tomorrow. Everything can wait until tomorrow.

"What? I...I don't have one. I..."

He sounds confused. She knows she's losing him. "I'll be over in a half hour. Can you be ready to go?"

"I...yes."

"Okay, buddy. Just wait for me." Sue snaps the phone shut and turns around to the new football coach. "Hey, Bieste, you don't like me and I'm still not convinced you aren't actually a shaved grizzly bear masquerading as a person but I need you to tell Figgins that I'm leaving for the afternoon."

"Why would I do that, lady?" The female football coach glares but there really isn't any anger behind it.

"I have something..."

"I'll do it." Emma squeaks from across the small room, "Is he going to the hospital? Could I...is he allowed visitors?"

"Well, he's certainly been allowed visitors the entire time he has been back at his apartment." Sue snaps. She doesn't have time for this.

"I couldn't. I called but he didn't answer. What if he's still upset about Carl? Or..." She rubs her hands together compulsively as she speaks.

"It's not about you! Everyone has called. He doesn't answer because he...you know what? Never mind. I have to go." She walks past the gaping red-head and out the door.

She makes it to his apartment in less than twenty minutes.

She uses her key because she doesn't want to take the chance he won't open the door.

He's sitting on the couch and his head turns towards her when she walks in the room. She raises her eyebrows but keeps her voice neutral. "Ready to go?"

He stares at her blankly for a moment before he stands and follows her to the door. She walks out first and he follows, locking the door behind them. She takes in his appearance – baggy sweatshirt, jeans that are too loose, Converse sneakers, and an old winter hat. He looks so young and fragile that she wants to move him somewhere safe. Somewhere where he doesn't feel scared or alone. Jean has the hospital – people who care for her. People who won't let her be alone if she needs a shoulder.

Jean has Sue.

Who does Will Schuester have?

It's a short drive to the hospital and he looks out the window at the falling leaves the entire time without speaking. When they arrive, he tucks his hat down further in an attempt to hide his face and follows her through the hallways to the waiting room.

People still stare.

Sue explains to a nurse that he doesn't have an appointment but needs his stitches out. The nurse glances past Sue, opens her mouth in shock for a moment at Will, and then ushers them inside. Sue glares at the nurse as they pass. Will doesn't look at her at all.

The doctor asks questions and Will nods yes or shakes his head no. Questions that require more than a one word response get a shrug. The doctor has him pull his sweatshirt and undershirt off and Sue folds them and lays them to the side. His back is still a horror show of zig-zags and the carving of the number 12 below his shoulder blade is a reminder of something Sue doesn't know about but Will can't forget. She holds her hand out to him but he doesn't take it - doesn't look at it.

She steps forward and grabs his hand anyway. He leans his head against her arm as the doctor pulls out the dozens of tiny threads. It takes nearly half an hour.

When it's done, the doctor gives instructions and asks Will about seeing a therapist. He shakes his head and pulls his shirt and sweatshirt back on. He leaves before the doctor has stopped speaking. Sue follows after him.

They're sitting in her car again and she knows he wants to go home and retreat. She should go to Cheerio's practice. Instead, she drives to Wendy's and buys two cheeseburgers, two fries, and two Sprites through the drive-thru. She drives back to his apartment and gets out of the car, he dutifully follows. He is silent the entire time.

Following is apparently easier than talking.

She puts on a movie – Beauty and the Beast. It's Disney and there is singing. It's safe for him. They sit together on his couch and he sips his Sprite and eats a few fries. He ignores the burger until she slides it towards him and glares until he takes a few bites.

The movie is half over before she pushes him to speak. It's an unspoken compromise. "Quinn can't get a hold of you, William."

He looks at her then, "I...how is she?"

"How do you think she's doing? She's already caught up with a lot of her work and back on the squad but that's not what you mean, is it? She wants to speak to you." She pushes harder.

"I can't."

"She needs you to." She stands and throws away their garbage, "Think about it."

She leaves without another word.

He curls up on the couch but doesn't sleep for the longest time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Rated R at the end. **

* … * … * … * … * … *

August

Quinn gets sick on a Monday morning.

Monster hasn't been back for seven days and they've settled into a comfortable routine in his absence. Wake up around 9, take turns brushing teeth and going to the bathroom, Will teaches Becky basic Spanish as Quinn gets them each a soup and some crackers, Becky tells funny stories while they eat.

Price is Right at 11.

Arthur at 12 and 12:30.

Quinn teaches both of them some Cheerios routines. Will demonstrates some break dancing moves.

Quinn goads him into letting her clean his burns and lacerations around 3. They're healing surprisingly well. After she washes and dries the cuts, she runs her fingers up and down his back until he gets nervous and practically runs away. She laughs every time.

They play pretend. Will plays the prince or the villain. Quinn plays the queen or the evil step mother. Becky always plays the princess. Will throws himself fully into whatever role he is playing. He arranges costumes for each of them out of the old clothes in the wardrobe and puts on accents or walks with a strut or a limp depending on the character he's playing.

He ducks his head to hide his reddening face when he catches Quinn smiling at him.

Quinn teaches Becky about science or history while Will gets their soup and crackers ready for dinner. They eat around 6:30 while watching The Simpsons. Becky enjoys it. Her parents don't let her watch this show. Quinn doesn't want her to either.

Will pouts. Becky pouts. Quinn gives in.

They take turns washing up, brushing their teeth, using the bathroom, and washing their clothes. Will and Becky alternate which article of clothes they wash every day. Shirt one day, pants the next, underwear and socks the next. Quinn wishes she had pants too. She washes her clothes every other day because she feels weird walking around wrapped up in a blanket while her dress and underwear dries enough to put back on.

Will won't look at her while she's in the blanket. She makes every effort to saunter past him. She likes watching the tips of his ears turn pink.

Becky is in bed by 8:30. Will sings her a song and then tells her a story. Quinn says a prayer with her and hugs her goodnight. She's asleep by 9.

Will and Quinn watch whatever movie or TV show they can find on the TV. He always lets her choose what they watch even if it means he's forced to watch both America's Next Top Model and Beaches one night.

Sometimes they talk while the TV lends background noise.

He tells her a bit about his childhood. He always had good grades because he never wanted to leave school. His father burned down their house, his mother forgot him in the grocery store more than once, his grandfather was nice but died when he was eight of alcohol poisoning.

The drunk gene runs in his family.

He snorts when Quinn tells him that it apparently skipped his generation.

She tells him about her own family. Her father is a bully who pretends to love his children but only as long as they do whatever he says. Her mother is a drunk who will do anything to please her controlling husband. Her sister is perfect. Quinn is not perfect.

Will smiles as he looks her in the eye and tells her that she's not perfect but she's special and that's beautiful.

Her cliche butterflies threaten to explode out of her stomach.

They go to bed around midnight. Will sleeps on his back next to the wall now. Quinn uses his chest as a pillow and cuddles as close to his side as she can get. She asks him to sing her a song and he does. She says a prayer and he lays silently and listens. She runs her finger tips along his side as she falls asleep and he doesn't say anything about it being inappropriate. He pets her hair slowly as she drifts off.

They always wake up around the same time the next morning.

Until Monday.

Will wakes up first and goes about their routine. Becky wakes up second and since Quinn is still sleeping, she gets their soup ready after she has used the bathroom. Will tries to wake Quinn up but she shoos him away.

He and Becky eat quietly.

The Price is Right and Arthur are over by the time Quinn wakes up. She wraps herself in the blanket from _their_ bed and sits on the couch miserably. Will feels her forehead and frowns. "You have a fever. I wonder how you managed that..."

She swats his hand away but there is no anger behind it. He gets her some ibuprofen, places a damp towel on her forehead, and turns the TV slightly so it's easier for her to see.

He and Becky play quietly across the room. Empty soup containers make good blocks. They also make for a good bowling game.

Quinn sleeps fitfully for a few hours. He wakes her up at 5 and gives her more medicine. She doesn't want to take it in case they need it later but he insists.

She throws up twice between 5 and 7 but all that comes up is bile. Her stomach spasms and it hurts like hell.

He wets her towel for her and turns on Jeopardy. She falls asleep before the final question. When she wakes up again, Becky is asleep and it's dark except the TV. She's hot and uncomfortable and wants to change her clothes. She goes to stand but there is a weight on the blanket pinning it down. She panics for a second but then her eyes adjust to the darkness.

Will is sitting on the floor asleep, the blanket partially underneath him, pinning it down. His head is tilted awkwardly to the side, resting next to her stomach. If she stretches out her fingers, they'd brush his hair.

She does. She stretches them further and runs her fingers through his hair. It is soft. She was right.

He startles awake and turns his head to look at her face. He breathes in deeply and exhales, still half asleep - his voice is very quiet. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

"Like garbage. How long have you been sleeping there?" She still hasn't moved her hand from his hair.

He glances at the TV. David Letterman is almost over. "Since The Biggest Loser." He looks back at her and smiles slightly, "My ass is asleep."

She laughs – really laughs, and then regrets it. Her stomach lurches and she has to run to the toilet. She drops to her knees and heaves but nothing comes out. He's behind her and his hand is on her back stroking back and forth between her shoulder blades.

"Come on, off the floor." He stands after she has gone a couple of minutes without dry heaving.

She doesn't want to get up. The couch is too far. The bed is too far. The cold concrete feels good against her hot skin.

When she doesn't move, he stoops and lifts her carefully – carrying her bridal style to the bed. She snuggles her face against his shoulder until she remembers her breath smells like puke. She turns her head away.

He lays her down, arranges the blankets around her, and then moves to walk away. "Where are you going?" There is a sense of panic in her voice and Will wonders if she's slightly delirious.

"I'll sleep on the couch. You need your rest. Just call me if..."

"No!" She scoots over a bit and lays on her side, "Lay with me."

He considers saying no. He always considers saying no before he gives in.

He gives in.

He lays down, knees bending behind hers, one arm above his head and the other at his side. She reaches back and pulls his arm around her waist. She can tell by the stiff way he's holding himself that he's terribly uncomfortable but she doesn't care. She feels safe like this.

He sighs against the back of her neck and she snuggles closer to his chest.

She sleeps peacefully the entire night. He's awake for most of it.

Quinn still feels like crap the next morning but the twisting in her gut is gone. "I must have eaten a bad soup." She shrugs when Becky asks her how she got sick and they didn't.

She's sitting on the couch with Becky, sipping water from an empty container, and watching Judge Judy when the door at the top of the stairs creaks. It's been so long that she almost doesn't react to the ominous noise.

Will, who was making their beds, moves quickly to the couch and stands in front of the two girls. He smiles falsely as Monster reaches the bottom of the stairs.

"You. Upstairs." There is a gun in his hand and he points it at Will before dropping it down to his side.

Panic rises in Quinn's stomach and she feels as though she's going to throw up again.

"I thought we were going to play a board game when you came back. Mom was really..." He tries to divert the situation. He always tries to divert the situation. Monster cuts him off angrily.

"I said 'get upstairs' now." He motions again with the gun. His face is blank but his eyes hold the same sadistic evil they always do. His skin is a few shades darker than it was before and Will briefly wonders why.

Will takes a step and Quinn grabs his wrist to stop him at the same time Becky lets out a small 'no'. He turns his head and smiles slightly at them, "It's okay."

What is okay? Quinn wants to shout. That man will bring him upstairs and...and...she'll never see him again! She'll be alone! She can't take care of Becky by herself! She can't stay here without him! She...she...

She stands up and holds his wrist more tightly, grasping it with both hands. Becky does the same after a second.

Will glances back at them and then forward at the man. Monster is clearly getting angry. "Quinn, Becky, let me go. It's okay." He tries to pull his arms away without hurting them and succeeds in escaping Becky's grasp but not Quinn's. Her grip is so tight it's cutting off the circulation to his hand. He doesn't want to pull too hard. He just wants her to let go.

The man steps forward and grabs Will by the hair and yanks him forward. He stumbles forward and can't right himself while she's holding on to his arm. He falls and Quinn falls with him, both of them landing hard on the concrete. Becky backs up a few steps and slides down the wall, crying.

Monster raises the gun and brings it down hard against Quinn's head. Her head explodes and she heaves the small amount of soup she had for breakfast all over the floor. Becky screams. She can hear Will talking frantically but the words coming out of his mouth don't make any sense. She manages through the whole thing to keep a hold of his wrist.

"Move!" The monster screams and Will tries to pull out of her grasp again but she has a death grip.

"Quinn, let me go!" Will is yelling at her. The desperation in his voice cuts through the haze and she can understand his words again.

She doesn't let go. She's not going to let him go. She needs him.

Will shouts a pleading 'no' and yanks his wrist free just as the cold metal of the gun hits her across the cheek and then again against the back of her head. Her arms give out and she lays sprawled across the ground in her own sick.

Her ears are ringing. She reaches forward trying to grab a hold of him again but she grasps nothing. Blackness is crawling into her vision and she can't see. It's only a second before she's aware of nothing else.

When she wakes up hours later her head feels like it's going to explode into a million tiny puzzle pieces. Her stomach explodes again – bile dripping from her chin onto the ground below.

Becky is sobbing on the couch.

Will is gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**You guys are awesome. Love you all. :) **

**ekcandyapple, I'm actually not a big Quill shipper either. I don't know how it happened (I think it may have been eaulby). :p**

**I promise, there is a reason Will is getting the majority of the beatings and it will come out in the next couple of chapters. Poor Quinn shall not escape unharmed, sorry to say.**

**I probably won't be able to update for a few days (I can only procrastinate with my homework for so long) so I decided I'd put this up tonight. **

**Rated R for suggestive language and violence. **

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

Will is cold. Freezing. His entire body hurts but he could deal with that if he could just get warm.

He's been laying on a filthy mattress since Monster left him here after he...he...

Will sobs into his hand and then bites his fist hard to keep from doing it again. He breathes in and out, trying to control the rush of emotion that threatens to explode out of him. If he could just get warm...if he could just forget the feel of the weight on top of him...

He stares at the door that he knows leads down to Quinn and Becky. When Monster brought him upstairs, he was expecting to enter a house. Instead, he entered a basement. Monster locked the heavy metal door they came through with a key. He can't get back down there.

They're being kept in a sound-proof sub-basement. Bomb-shelter? Panic room?

No one is going to find them down there.

He moves his eyes to the small window near the ceiling. It's dark outside now but it was light when he first came upstairs. All he could see out the window were trees and sky before Monster knocked him down and whipped him over and over with the leather belt.

It hurt. Burned like hell as it reopened old wounds on his back and made new ones across the back of his thighs. Now it's just numb.

He's numb.

He knows they're in the woods. Probably in some sort of cabin. He spent a lot of time hiking in the woods when he was little to avoid going home. He knows that there are a lot of cabins in Lima. Maybe the Monster never brought them out of town?

If he could get out the small window some how, he could run, find something familiar, bring help.

If he could get out the small window some how, Monster could come back, see him gone, and murder Quinn and Becky.

He draws his knees up even though it hurts and stays laying down.

He wants to know how Quinn is. He tried to make her let go. If he had slapped her or pushed her to get her off of his wrist, maybe that asshole wouldn't have beat her with the gun.

He didn't though. It's his fault she probably has a concussion. It's his fault her skull might be fractured. It's his fault she could be dead.

He stares out the window again. The moon sends a sliver of light across the stained mattress and he moves his fingers so that the light falls across them. He can see a few stars if he squints. He hasn't seen them in weeks. He wishes he could take a picture to give to Quinn and Becky so they can see them too. He wants to fold up his sliver of moonlight and put it in his pocket so he can share it with them.

He sobs again and buries his face in the mattress. It smells like bleach and is covered in his blood and the Monster's..._the Monster's_...

He gags. Chokes on bile and then swallows it back down.

His breathing quickens and he can feel himself start to hyperventilate. He can't calm down. He tries. His vision starts to go blurry. He can feel himself start to black out before he actually does and the only thing he can think about is how much he wants to go back down the stairs.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn eventually manages to peel herself off the floor. Her head is pounding and she's covered in puke and spit but she can't bring herself to care at the moment. Becky notices she's awake and runs to her. Quinn hugs her tightly and can't control the sob that escapes her throat. The sob multiplies until she's bawling painfully.

Becky cries too. Ugly, gut-wrenching, cries.

After what feels like hours, Quinn stops first. Pulls herself up shakily and yanks her filthy dress off, wrapping herself in a blanket instead. She shoves the offending garment in the sink and turns on the hot water, scrubbing out the filth and grim with angry strokes. She hangs it up on the door to the wardrobe, washes her hands and face with soap, and then lays down on the couch. Becky brings her some ibuprofen and then lays down with her.

Craig Ferguson is on the TV. It's late.

At some point they must fall asleep because when Quinn becomes aware again, Monster is on his knees in front of them – only a foot or two away from her face.

She screams. She isn't expecting him to be there and the fear that bubbles in her stomach forces its way out of her lungs.

He sits back on his heels but continues to stare.

Becky is trembling beside her. She scoots back as far as she can go and Quinn tightens her grip on the girl.

"Why don't you love me too, mom?" His voice is soft. He reaches out and tries to stroke her face but Quinn pulls herself back out of his reach.

"Where is Will?" Becky asks defiantly although she is still shaking.

"Who?" He glares at her and she bites her lip to keep from speaking again.

Quinn wants to get up and run but all she has on is her bra and underwear. She stays where she is.

"I brought you more things. Towels and a few razors. More soup and crackers and shampoo. A new dress. I know how much you love your things." He smiles and reaches out again, this time his hand falls on the top of her head. He's staring at the bare skin of her exposed shoulders.

Will would stay still. He wouldn't fight.

She stays still. She doesn't fight.

"Where is dad? Is he coming back?" Her voice is meek. She didn't intend for it to sound that way.

"He's busy." He answers simply. A faraway look in his eyes.

"Is he...did you...is he dead?" She whispers it. She doesn't know if she wants to know the answer.

"Why would he be dead?" Monster laughs. A loud, ugly, barking sound. Quinn wants to cover her ears. "It's late. Kathy should be in her own bed." He gets to his feet and then stoops a bit to lift Becky up.

She kicks him in the chest.

He coughs once and then his eyes turn cold. He raises his hand but Quinn pulls Becky back before he can strike down, "No, no! I'll put Kathy to bed!"

He drops his arm and smiles coldly. "Fine. Go ahead."

She stands, doing her best to keep the blanket around herself, and pulls Becky along with her towards the beds. She stumbles and falls half-naked to the ground. Monster had his foot on the edge of the blanket.

He planned it.

He's going to rape her.

She scrambles to her feet but he's beside her in a second, his greasy hand around her throat lifting her off the ground, "Don't do me the disservice of pretending you don't hate me, mom! You left me with him! It's all your fault!" He tosses her roughly to the ground. Becky tries to pull her to her feet but she isn't strong enough and Quinn hurts too much to help.

Monster spits at her, turns, and walks back up the stairs.

Quinn can't breathe. Her throat is tight and raw and her breaths are coming out in ragged gasps. Becky hugs her, cries for her to calm down and breathe right.

It takes a minute but she manages to get herself under control. Her head pounds more fiercely in her skull and her hip hurts where it hit the concrete but he didn't rape her. He must have been trying to scare her. Trying to break her. If Will were here, he would have protected her or taken the beating himself.

She sobs again. Becky gets her the ibuprofen bottle and some water and she chokes back 3 pills. She gets to her feet, limps to the wardrobe, and pulls on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that are obviously meant for a man much bigger than she. She doesn't want to wear the clothes but she doesn't want Monster coming down here again while she's not dressed.

She pulls on Will's leather jacket. She hasn't worn it in a few days because she had _him_ here with her. She needs it now. She puts Becky in her bed and then lays down on _theirs_. She wraps the jacket tightly around herself and breathes in its scent.

It smells like him and if she closes her eyes tight enough, she can almost pretend that it's his arms holding her tight as she cries herself to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Pfft. Eventually homework will have to come first...not this morning though! :p**

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

**November 1st**

Quinn sits in Spanish class watching Ms. Holiday conjugate the verb for "to dance" while wearing a mariachi costume. She closes her eyes and it's _his_ voice she hears, _his_ eyes that watch her from the front of the room. She doesn't realize she's been called on to answer a question until Ms. Holiday is directly in front of her calling her name gently.

She opens her eyes and _he _disappears and cold reality sinks in.

"Are you okay, Quinn? Do you need a minute?"

Everyone is staring at her. She shakes her head and slumps down in her chair to hide from their gaze.

Ms. Holiday moves on.

She pulls her phone from her pocket. She isn't supposed to have it in class but most of the teachers have been turning a blind eye as far as she's concerned. She's pulling an A in Spanish despite the fact that she hasn't turned in any assignments. She turned in a blank exam for Physics and the teacher gave her a perfect score.

At least her GPA won't suffer.

She flips through her contacts until she finds _his _name.

9:08 am - Message to Will Schuester: Are you awake?

She doesn't expect him to answer. She's sent hundreds of texts over the past few weeks. He hasn't answered any.

She doodles a picture of a tree in her book.

Ms. Holiday drones on. She seems nice but she doesn't belong here and Quinn has no patience for her.

She draws stars around the tree until the page fills up. She colors the tree in black. Draws a cross beneath it.

9:21 am – Message to Will Schuester: ?

Why are these classes so long? They started her back on a full schedule three days ago. She misses her private room where she could escape from everyone's eyes.

She draws a pair of eyes on the next page in her book. She fills the irises in black It reminds her ofanother pair of black eyes. She rips out the page and crumples it up.

She hopes whatever homework is assigned doesn't require that page.

Not that she'd do it anyway.

9:35 am – Message to Will Schuester: Will?

Fifteen minutes later and class is dismissed. She ducks her head to avoid the pity-filled smile Ms. Holiday gives her. She trudges to English.

9:52 am – Message to Will Schuester: Mrs. Smith the English teacher is having an affair with the janitor. Ew.

They're watching Pride and Prejudice. A better option than actually making some of these failures read the book. She can doodle and send texts undisturbed.

10:01 am – Message to Mercedes Jones: Lunch date?

10:02 am – Message to Will Schuester: Seriously. She has hickeys.

10:03 am Message from Mercedes Jones: Meet in the choir room, gf!

10:06 am Message from Mom: I'm going out after work. Business meeting. Dinner is in the fridge.

"Miss Fabray, phone away!" Mrs. Smith barks in her ear. There goes that plan. She wanted to text her mom back and ask her to stay home. She doesn't want to be alone. Maybe she'll ask Mercedes and Kurt to come over instead...

She pockets her phone and watches the movie. She can feel everyone's eyes burning into the back of her head.

She makes it through class and sneaks out the door before everyone else has the chance to stand up. Santana is in the hallway. She still hasn't spoken to her but Quinn has seen her staring in her direction.

Santana is in the hallway near her locker...beating the shit out of a Sophomore. She considers going over there. She needs to get her lunch. She stays rooted in her spot and watches instead.

Santana pushes the kid to the floor and then turns to walk away. She sees Quinn staring. She stares back.

Santana moves first, walking by Quinn, she stares her down until she's close enough to whisper so only Quinn can hear. "Slut. I bet you liked it. I bet you liked watching while Mr. Schue took it too."

She continues past.

Quinn's ears start ringing and her vision blurs. Her feet still won't move. She doesn't realize she's crying until Kurt grabs her arms and pulls her into the choir room away from the stares.

Away from the pity.

She stares at _his_ swivel chair and sobs more loudly. Her legs give out and she slumps to the floor. Kurt goes with her and hugs her tightly as she cries. He pushes the door shut with his foot so no one can see her.

She wants to throw up. She doesn't. She can't. She pinches her thigh and takes deep breaths to distract herself. She manages to stop crying Kurt wipes the tears out of her eyes and then out of his own. He cleans her smudged makeup with a moist towelette. They don't speak. He doesn't know what to say to make it better.

Words aren't going to make it better.

She looks perfect again just in time for everyone else to join them.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

10:57 am – Message from Quinn Fabray: Please talk to me...

Will rolls over on the couch and looks at his phone on the coffee table even though he knows who it is. Everyone else gave up on contacting him days ago.

He hits delete.

His mom showed up yesterday to take him to get his stitches out.

Almost a week late.

He didn't answer the door. She pounded for over an hour, called him an ingrate, called him an asshole, told him to rot in hell.

He had sat on the ground and leaned against the door - Breathed in the smell of scotch that wafted in from her clothes. Her breath. Let the pounding of the door reverberate up his spine. Watched her feet disappear from the crack under the door. Somehow it made him feel _something_...if only for a moment.

That was yesterday.

He curls himself into his blanket and goes to his favorite place. The quiet place between being awake and being asleep where he can breathe and no one can bother him. When his vision focuses again, the sun is high in the sky outside the window and Sue is standing in front of him with a look on her face.

He doesn't like that look.

She waves a brown paper bag in front of his face. Her mouth is moving. He watches her lips go up and down until a word splits through his brain. "Soup."

She brought him soup. His stomach recoils. He rolls onto the floor and she jumps back. He throws up a mouth full of bile onto the hardwood floor. Maybe she'll get disgusted and leave.

He hears her walk away. Clutches his middle and teeters, laying down on the ground away from his sick. He'll clean it later. He wants to go back to his place...

But Sue is back with a towel. She wipes his mouth. The towel is damp. Now he can't help focusing on her. She's cleaning the floor.

He looks away. Ashamed.

Her voice is calm and low, "It's time for you to get up. I have the second half of the day off and I don't have to be back until Cheerios practice. We're going to watch a movie. Or would you rather me read you a book?"

He picks himself off the floor and tries to pull himself back up to lay on the couch. Her hand on his shoulder stops him. His phone chirps again and he reaches past her to get it

12:44 pm – Message from Quinn Fabray: I'm sorry. You have to know I am! Please talk to me!

Delete.

Sue looks at him hard. "Sit on the couch, William." He does, pulling his knees up to his chest. She stares down at him, "Book or movie?"

He shrugs.

"Book or movie?" She presses.

Shrug.

"Book or movie?" She isn't going to let it go. They could be in this stand-still for hours. He debates it.

"Book." His voice cracks. He hasn't used it since the last time he saw her almost a week ago.

"Good." She leaves. Comes back with a glass of water and a peanut butter and jelly a couple of minutes later. She sits next to him and pulls out a book from her back pocket. _To Kill A Mockingbird. _He's already read it in English and Spanish but he doesn't tell her that. He listens to her voice as she reads about Scout and Jem and Boo Radley and his mind doesn't wander. She glares at him every so often and he takes it as his cue to take a bite of his sandwich.

1:47 pm – Message from Quinn Fabray: Speak to me, Will.

_He can't._ He swallows hard and debates shutting off his phone. He needs to know she's there though. Alive. He can't answer. Can't dirty her by responding. Sue stares at him hard.

Delete.

He puts the phone down.

She reads until it's time for her to go back to work She pulls a blanket over his shoulders and he can't help but to look up at her as she turns to leave. He wants to call her back. He wants to talk to her. To ask her how Quinn is doing. He opens his mouth. His tongue is heavy and won't move. He shuts it again.

_Speak. Just speak._

Too late. She's gone. He stares at the door and then slides to the floor next to the couch. He's alone again. It's what he deserves. He was selfish for wanting to talk to someone. He was selfish for wanting to know about _her. _

2:57 pm – Message from Quinn Fabray: I need you.

Delete.


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for your lovely reviews and messages. :) Time to start tying together past and present a bit. :p**

**This chapter is rated R for suggestive language, sexual situations, and violence.**

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

Will watches as a little spider crawls in circles on the edge of the mattress he is still laying on. Monster is on top of him, pushing his neck down roughly, pulling his hair, _using _him.

He watches the spider and takes deep breaths although it is difficult to breathe with the pressure on his neck.

Monster speeds up. Grunts and then tenses. Will resists the urge to cry out and struggle. Monster beat him the last time because of it. Will struggled and Monster brandished the gun and kicked him hard in the ribs. Smacked him across the face and yanked his hair back. He hates the feel of the monster's fingers running across his scalp, tangling in his curls. He can feel the bastard's nails running through his hair even when they aren't.

He couldn't sleep last night because of it.

He's been up here for two days. It's getting dark now...it'll be his third night curled up on the soiled mattress. Third night with no food or water. Third night pissing and puking in the corner like an animal.

The spider looks at him and he stares back as Monster crawls off of his back. He's gone for a few minutes at least. Will is about to pull his pants back up – thinks he must have missed the sound of Monster leaving, when something cold is dumped over him. He screams out as the liquid burns his back and legs – the new whip lacerations Monster inflicted over the past two days.

He doesn't realize until Monster's hand is on his mouth that he hasn't stopped screaming.

All he can smell is lemon floor cleaner. All he can feel is the burn of the cleaner as it seeps into the cuts and scrapes.

"Stop it now." Monster's face is right in front of his. He wants to spit in his eye.

His mind goes to Quinn, to Becky, and he doesn't.

"We have to make sure no evidence is left behind." His voice sounds calm. He has a streak of Will's blood across his cheek. He wants to tell Monster that he's an idiot. That his blood is all over the room that they are in. Floor cleaner isn't going to wash away DNA. He turns his eyes back to the spider instead. Wants to pass out.

_Can't._

"We'll get you cleaned up. Give you a shave. I'll give you your presents and then you can go see Mom, okay?" He slaps Will's cheek and smiles, "She misses you!" He sing songs it. Will wants to vomit.

It takes half an hour. Monster takes his clothes, shaves his face, dumps a bucket of freezing water over his head to rinse him off, and then leaves him to air dry.

Will slumps to the ground and lays on the concrete. The mattress is too dirty. Smells too much like the liquid burning his skin. His eyes scan out for his spider. He can't find it. He can feel blood and ice water dripping down his back, tries to ignore it – stares out the window at the sky instead. It's getting dark.

His mind can't focus. He knows he's completely out of it. His throat burns with thirst and he wants to sleep.

Monster is back. He hands him new clothes. Dark jeans, a blue cotton sweatshirt, underwear and socks that don't belong to him but look new. He also gives him another black bag - his shoes are at the top of it. Monster watches as he slowly dresses. He wants to rush and pull the clothing on but his aching body won't allow for it. When he is dressed, Monster strokes his cheek tenderly and then slaps him hard.

"This is what you get, Dad! This is what you get for all those times you did the same thing to me! Your bitch of a wife didn't do anything about it before but she damn well will this time! Tell her to start thinking about her choice now!" His voice is angry. Will flinches away. Doesn't want to be on the receiving end of that anger anymore. He has absolutely no idea what Monster is talking about. Isn't sure he heard him correctly anyway.

Monster unlocks the basement door and turns to look at him, "I'm going away for a few days. Take the time to heal up because I will be back and we will be enjoying so much more quality time together." He opens the door, drops the bag on the top stair, and then Will walks through. It shuts quickly behind him and Will is left alone in the near darkness. He sinks down, doesn't trust himself to walk without falling. His head is swimming and he knows that he is dehydrated and should get some water but he _can't._ He wants to call out for Quinn but his mouth won't move. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes.

Upstairs, Monster smiles sadistically at the door in front of him. He turns and heads away, crushing a little spider under his shoe as he goes.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

The day after Monster takes Will, Quinn spends the majority of her time miserably trying to stay asleep. She feels badly leaving Becky to her own devices but every time she sits up, her vision blurs and her stomach recoils and she has to lay back down. Her head is still pounding where the gun connected with it and the ibuprofen only works for an hour or two before she has to choke back more. When she finally feels well enough to sit up, it's almost time for Becky to go to bed.

She uses the bathroom, washes her face, and guzzles a stomach full of water straight from the faucet. Her father would scold her for being unladylike. Her father is an asshole.

She sits with Becky on the couch. The girl doesn't say anything to her. Doesn't acknowledge her presence at all. Quinn nudges her a little and when she turns her head, smiles fondly at her.

She gets a glare in return.

"What's the matter..."

"I'm going to bed." Becky stands and moves to turn off the TV. Quinn reaches out and grabs her hand, stopping her. "Maybe you'll do a better job holding me than you did him!"

She rips her arm away.

Quinn gapes. She doesn't know what to say. It feels as though the girl has punched through her chest and squeezed her heart.

"You know he's probably dead, right?" She throws over her shoulder as she stomps to her bed. Quinn stares after her and then turns and faces the TV. She wants to cry but she can't. Her head is spinning slightly so she lays down. She mindlessly watches the screen, zoning in and out for a few hours until the 11 o'clock news comes on.

Normally she would shut off the TV. Will didn't like to watch the news. Didn't like to have proof that they weren't going to be found. She needs to know though. She watches, waits until they mention anything about the kidnapping. They don't.

She lays back down. Nods off. She watches the news at 5 am and then again at 6. No mention. Is no news good news? Or does it mean everyone has given up? At least they don't mention that his body has been found.

She lays back down and closes her eyes. When Becky stomps by her, Quinn feels as though she's been sleeping for days. She sits up and glances at the TV. She missed the 10 o'clock news. She'll have to wait until 1.

Becky doesn't come near her. Doesn't say a word to her for hours. Quinn can hear her playing with the empty soup containers and singing Miley Cyrus across the room. She hears her cry but she doesn't go to her. If the kid wants to be a jerk, Quinn will be too.

Will would have went to her.

At noon, the news finally runs a story about them. They found Will's car last week abandoned behind a gas station and covered in blood. The reporter speculates whether the amount of blood found was indicative of their death. '_No', _Quinn mentally supplies the answer. It was from the gash on Will's head when Monster first brought them here.

No help there.

Will's wallet and Quinn's purse and phone were on the driver's seat. The police think Monster must have switched cars behind the gas station.

That's not really a big help either.

They mention eleven murders. Quinn's stomach drops. She hadn't realized it had been that many.

He's done this at least twice before. Five months ago he kidnapped a man, woman, and two children. None were related. A few weeks after that, another man, woman, and two children. All eight bodies turned up over time - dumped along the river or left to rot in the woods behind the trailer park or thrown like trash on the side of the road. All of them were mutilated or tortured in some way.

The reporter isn't specific on the 'how'.

He shot Brittany and the other woman in the parking lot. He kidnapped a 13 year old boy on the same day he took Becky. The boy fought and he broke his neck. That was the "Brian" Monster had spoken about when preparing them for their "family dinner".

He had murdered a boy and then went out and bought a pizza. Quinn gags but doesn't vomit.

Eleven murders. Three victims still missing. They aren't expecting to find them alive.

They run descriptions of them on the TV but the reporter clearly thinks it's hopeless.

They interview Will's ex-wife Terri. She sucks up the attention like a sponge. Cries and looks mournfully into the camera and calls Will the love of her life. Claims they were in the middle of a reconciliation.

"Not after the fake pregnancy, bitch." Quinn mumbles to herself.

They show footage from a candlelight vigil that was held the night before. Quinn feels Becky sit next to her as the camera pans out across the people in attendance. It looks like the entire town showed up. Quinn sees her mom and Ms. Pillsbury. Kurt, Mercedes, Finn, Rachel, Artie, Mike, Puck, Tina...all crying with bowed heads, singing softly. There is an older man in front who looks a little like Will - his father maybe. Coach Sylvester is standing with the Cheerios. She looks solemn. Quinn didn't think that was possible.

"That's my mom there." Becky whispers pointing at the screen, "And my dad." She sniffles and then she's burying her face in Quinn's shoulder and crying softly. Quinn hugs her tightly, her anger from earlier melting away.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Becky whispers after the news is long over.

"It's okay..."

"No. It's not. I'm just mad. I didn't want him to...I couldn't do anything." She sniffles. Quinn knows how that feels. "I miss him. We were like a family and now...I just miss him. Do you think he's..."

"No." Quinn cuts her off quickly. "He's not dead."

They eat, wash up, go about their routine without Will. They don't speak much but Becky snuggles next to her on the couch while they watch TV and eat. They go to bed early. There is no song or story but Quinn holds Becky's hand and they say a prayer together.

They do the same thing the next day. Wake up, eat, bathroom, long spans of TV, eat, bed. Quinn finishes the ibuprofen. Her head is no longer pounding but a dull ache remains. She doesn't check the new box Monster brought down before he beat her a couple of nights ago. She doesn't want anything from him.

Quinn stays up later than Becky that night. The couch feels a mile long without Will sitting next to her. She curls up and watches America's Next Top Model. Will would have hated it. She would have made him watch anyway.

She's nodding off when the door creaks behind her. She hears it shut and sits up, waiting for Monster to bound down the stairs and do something terrible.

He doesn't.

Minutes tick past. She works up the courage and cautiously approaches the stairs. It's dark, the only light comes from the TV. She has to strain her eyes to see. As she gets closer, the smell of lemon cleaner assaults her sinuses and she has to force herself not to sneeze. She cranes her head and peers up the stairs. Monster is sitting at the top. She panics for the second it takes her eyes to better adjust to the darkness. She can make out a head full of curls.

The panic is replaced with butterflies.

"Will?"

It's dark and she can't see his face but his head moves at the sound of her voice. She doesn't want to walk up the stairs. Doesn't want to be that close to the door. She's internally thankful when he shakily makes it to his feet and stumbles down the stairs towards her. He doesn't make it far. He sinks to his knees in front of her. She wraps her arms around his head and hugs it tightly to her stomach. His entire body is trembling and his hair is wet. He smells like the chemical her housekeeper cleans the kitchen with.

He mumbles something against her belly that she doesn't quite catch but sounds like 'you're okay'. She won't tell him that she was puking and that her head feels like it's full of cotton. She won't tell him she probably has a concussion She won't tell him that Monster stripped her half-naked and...

She won't tell him any of it.

She drops down to her knees too. Holds his face in her palms. Even in the dark she can see that his eyes are unfocused. His skin is too cold, too dry. His lips are chapped terribly.

He's dehydrated, her brain supplies.

She's seen girls on the squad with the same glassy expression. She drops his face, gets up, fills four empty soup containers with water and brings them back to him.

He hasn't moved at all. He blinks at her hand when she tries to give him the water but doesn't take it. She puts three containers on the floor by her feet and holds the forth to his mouth, tipping his head back with her free hand. She makes him drink all of it. Does the same thing with the other containers and then drops back to her knees in front of him and takes his face again. "What did he do to you?" She whispers.

He doesn't answer but his eyebrows scrunch together. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and bites down hard. Quinn knows he's trying not to cry. She leans forward and kisses his cheek. His eyes close and she's secretly surprised he doesn't muster up the energy to scold her for being inappropriate. "We need to get you to the bed." She kisses his other cheek, "Can you stand?" She kisses his forehead.

He nods and she drags him up so he's standing. He's wobbly and unfocused and she knows she doesn't have long before he passes out. She drags him to the bed. He crawls across it slowly and lays flat on his stomach. Quinn lays next to him, curling next to his side even though the chemical smell is a little overpowering. She can tell he's in pain but can't see any obvious injuries. She'll have to check him over when he wakes up. She can feel her anger for Monster rising. He just started healing and that bastard had to ruin it! She stomps down her frustration...for now.

She's careful to only touch him gently but she keeps her hand on him at all times as proof that he's real.

She leans forward and places a very light kiss on the corner of his lips. He doesn't react and she realizes it's because he's already unconscious. She grips his hand and lets herself drift to sleep too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey folks. Nope, Quinn wasn't raped. She was talking about getting thrown to the ground and choked. I see the confusion...sorry! Her unfortunate circumstances are coming up soon though.**

**I do appreciate and love all of your reviews and messages. It certainly encourages me to write faster (although sometimes I unfortunately have to actually finish homework assignments).**

**Holy long chapter! And this one is not rated R...hooray! Back to the basement next time. :p**

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Quinn sits in the choir room with her friends during lunch but she can't focus on their conversation in the slightest. Every time someone looks at her too long, she smiles and nods, figuring that they are waiting for an answer to a question she didn't even hear.

Ever since the incident last week with Santana, she feels as though she's spiraling out of control. Every noise makes her flinch. Every set of eyes that glance at her belong to someone who means to do her harm. She knows it's irrational but she can't fight off the terrible thoughts that keep spinning through her head.

She pulls out her phone and sends a quick message to _him._ Kurt eyes her warily. He knows what she's doing. He saw her send text after text on Monday during Spanish class and he grabbed her phone away and flipped through the messages she had sent. After class, he cornered her in the bathroom and told her to stop bothering. That Mr. Schue was never going to answer – that he's selfish or crazy or sick and that there is nothing Quinn can say in a text that will make him respond to her. Quinn cried and Kurt hugged her and brushed her hair back and then brought her back to his house for a movie marathon with Mercedes.

He wasn't trying to be mean. He was trying to be supportive and help her move on. She gets that. She gets that is what he's trying to do with his glare right now too. She sends the text anyway.

She moves through her next few classes in a daze. She has found out that if she wears a big enough sweatshirt, she can pull the hood up over her head and hide her hands in the sleeves and disappear. Disappear from their looks and their whispers and their pity and their questions and hide in her own little cotton world. She doesn't accomplish much school work this way but it helps her feel better at least.

The last bell rings and she makes her way to the locker room to change into her Cheerio's uniform. She doesn't like wearing it around school anymore. She used to love it when she strutted down the hallway in the red and white skirt and the looks of envy the rest of the students would throw at her. Now it's a different kind of look they are sending at her and she hates it. She can't hide in her uniform and so now she only wears it while she's on the field. She changes quickly in a stall and rushes out on the field before the other girls arrive. She sits on the bleachers and then joins the ground when everyone else shows up.

Blending in. She just wants to blend in.

Practice is half over and when Quinn checks her phone for the tenth time in twenty minutes, Sue has about had it. As soon as practice is over she corners the blonde and holds her in place with a hand on her shoulder while the rest of the squad heads to the locker room.

"Phone, Q." She holds out her hand but Quinn doesn't hand over the device.

"Sorry, Coach Sylvester. It was just kind of a bad day and I needed to talk to...someone." She can't help the frown the crosses her face and Sue sighs at the sight of it.

"Follow me, Q." She walks and doesn't look back to see if the girl follows. She knows she is without the visual conformation.

She leads Quinn into her office and shuts the door, motioning towards the seat across from her desk. Quinn sits. "You've been back on a full schedule for more than a week now. How's that going?"

"It's okay. You know, I'm still catching up with some of my classes and all but..."

"Cut the crap, Q. I've received notes from most of your teachers. You aren't doing your homework. You don't study for tests. There are classes you don't show up to and when you do you aren't really there. Even out on the field, I can see your mind wandering. Did you get pushed back here too quickly or..."

"I just don't like...I don't like everyone's eyes on me. I can't stand it. It's last year all over again except ten times worse because there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do to make it stop and no one understands except...except...and he won't talk to me! And I feel so alone and it's crushing me and I'm not strong enough and I'm not good enough and every time I close my eyes I see...I can see...everything that happened that last day and then its..." She buries her face in her hands and sobs, not able to continue.

Sue sits and lets her cry it out before she moves around her desk and places a hand on her back. "I'm not going to pretend to know what you went through, Quinn. There is only so much a person can learn from the news but I get it, I really do. I want to help you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, I want you to know that you can come here and escape for a little while. I'll have a key made for you in case I'm out. You can relax for a while and do your work away from everyone. I'll talk to your teachers and clear it with them."

Quinn nods, not trusting herself to speak without crying.

"And I'm going to try to help you with your other problem as well. The two of you were together for so long, I understand that you feel like a piece of you is missing right now. Keep sending your texts, I've seen him read them. He may not answer but at least you know he hears what you have to say. It's going to take time but I'll work on him, okay? Don't expect him to answer your texts tonight or call you tomorrow but I'll try and see what I can do, alright?"

Quinn nods again, sniffling. She stands and hugs her coach tightly before turning and heading out the door to shower and head home.

Sue stares at the door long after Quinn has gone. She hates emotion and she really isn't good at helping people with their problems but something about the way Quinn has been carrying herself has her worried enough to try to help the girl. She decides that it's time for another house call to William Schuester.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Sue slides into the apartment quietly. She knows he is sleeping. He is always sleeping. It's just a matter of locating whatever surface he has curled himself up on. She's surprised to find him sitting up on the couch – his legs curled behind him underneath a blanket. An open book is pinched between the fingers of his left hand – La Campana de Cristal. She can't read Spanish but the picture on the cover looks vaguely familiar. It must be a translation of something she has read but can't remember at the moment.

He fell asleep while reading. It's a change from falling asleep while spacing out, she supposes. The windows in the living room are cracked open and the November chill is creeping in. Despite the space heaters blasting around the room, it's almost as chilly inside as it is out. She sits next to him and watches him sleep for a moment. His lips are chapped and bruised where he chews on them but otherwise, he looks calm in sleep – not blank or confused or tired. If she can get him to a point where he can feel that calm during the day, maybe he can help a certain blonde cheerleader do the same.

He's the only one who can.

She slides the book from his hand and his eyes blink open a few times slowly until he realizes he's not alone. A look of panic flashes in his eyes before he realizes who it is sitting next to him and then the blank mask appears again.

"Alright, let's get going buddy. Get your coat." She drops the book on the coffee table and stands.

His eyes narrow in confusion and he shakes his head. She expected him to be difficult. She's prepared. "Are you deaf? Get your coat. It's already late and the store will be closing in less than two hours. You need groceries in this place. All you have is peanut butter and jelly and your bread has gone stale by now. Come on. Time's a wasting!"

He ignores her. Reaches past her to grab his book. She moves in front of him and he pulls his hand quickly back to avoid touching her leg. She pulls his blanket away and then stomps through the room turning off his heaters and closing the windows. He watches her the entire time but doesn't move. "How long are you going to make me wait? I have Cheerio's routines to work on!"

His eyes flash..._something_ for a brief second. Anger? Irritation? She can't place it. "Why..." He starts but then his eyes go wide and he bites his bottom lip hard to keep from speaking again.

"Listen. You have two choices here. Number one: We'll go in to the store, pick out a few things, and come back. It's late and not many people will be there. You'll get some food and then you can come home and hide. Number two: We'll start making phone calls right now." She pulls out her phone and goes to her contacts, "Emma Pillsbury, Figgins, maybe some Glee kids. Quinn Fabray. I'll dial and you can listen to them ask you all sorts of questions and say all sorts of 'I miss yous' and you can listen to their pity-filled voices and tears and..."

He gets up and stomps out of the room.

She gives him a moment before she stands to follow him but then he's back and wearing a baggy hooded-sweatshirt and standing by the front door not looking at her. Anything to avoid talking. She smirks at his stiff back and then walks out of the apartment. He follows, closing the door a little too forcefully.

Anger and frustration is better than blank stares and shrugs.

They get to her car and drive to the store in silence. She pulls into an empty parking spot and cuts the engine. She gets out and opens his door to gauge his reaction to being out in public. He's breathing a little too heavily and his eyes are wide but otherwise, he's still blank. She walks and he follows.

The bell dings as they walk through the doors and he startles slightly and drops his face, hiding from anyone who might be watching them. That she understands. The press were ruthless to both he and Quinn while they were in the hospital. Everyone wanted an interview with the two who got away.

Neither of them spoke to a single reporter.

She grabs a cart and begins to roll it up and down the aisles. He follows, his eyes on the ground. He doesn't pay any attention to the food on the shelves. She grabs up a couple of boxes of cereal and holds them out. "Rice Krispies or Cheerios?"

Shrug.

"No. Don't start. Rice Krispies or Cheerios?" She holds them out under his nose.

Really, he wouldn't normally eat either even if he had an appetite. He points at the Cheerios and she hands it to him. He knows she wants him to put the box in her cart. He clutches it to his chest instead.

_Cheerios. Cheerios. Cheerios._

_Her _face flashes in his mind for a second and he grips the box harder.

They go through the same process again and again. Everything he points to, she throws in the cart herself. Reese's Puffs over Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Bananas over apples. Skim milk over whole. Orange juice over apple. Wheat bread over white. American cheese over Swiss. He points at whatever is in the hand closest to him and she doesn't seem to catch on. It's like a game – waiting to see how long it will take her to discover his secrets.

His lips twitch slightly upward but his head is still down and she doesn't see.

Chocolate chip cookies over Oreos. Celery over green beans. Turkey over ham.

"Sue. I didn't realize that you shopped here. I figured you probably hunted and ate whatever you killed with your bare hands."

Will freezes. He recognizes Emma's voice immediately even without looking up. Maybe if he doesn't move he won't be noticed. He can blend into the stacks of bread. Melt under the fluorescent lights and dissolve into the linoleum. Shrink and duck behind his box of Cheerios.

"Erma. Run out of grapes to polish?" He can hear the bitterness in Sue's tone. Wants to move closer to her and hide in her shadow.

He doesn't move.

"No, thank you. Carl and I needed...Will?!" Her voice rises an octave and something crashes to the floor. He can see milk as it spreads into his field of vision, rushing towards his shoes.

He doesn't move.

"Will, I...I...what...how are you?"

He wonders how long it would take the milk to swallow his foot prints if he moved his feet. He could dump the Cheerios on the ground and it would look like breakfast. The breakfast of champs...of the cockroaches and rats and spiders that live under the shelves. They would swarm and ride around the milk river in little Cheerio inner tubes. A day at the beach for the vermin. He debates it. Her voice reaches his ears again and he vaguely realizes by the words coming out of her mouth that she's been speaking for a while. He's zoned out again.

"...and everyone at school is just waiting for you to come back and..."

He wonders where Sue went. He doesn't want to look up to see if she is still there. Doesn't want to see the disgusted looks on their faces. Doesn't want them to look at him like he's the monster he already knows he is. Doesn't want to...

He moves.

Turns and bolts. His feet slip on the milk covered linoleum and he skids a little before he finds his footing. There is shouting behind him but then he's out the door and the cold November air is smacking him in the face as he runs. He's always been fast – used to run everyday before..._it_...

His feet hit the pavement hard and it jars his legs and travels up his spine and spreads out through his chest. He can't breathe. His chest tightens painfully but he pushes himself forward.

_It's light. There is red everywhere. On his clothes, on his face, on his hands...his blood, its blood, her blood, their blood. En Español, su sangre. One phrase. It mixes together and drips down his back and lands silently on the leaves as he tears through the trees..._

"William?!"

There are hands on his face but they aren't _her _hands. His legs are cold. His knees are wet. It's dark again. He's on his the ground without remembering how he got there.

"William?!" There is a slap against his cheek and he looks up expecting to see hateful, black eyes.

No. Concerned blue stare back at him.

Sue.

The grocery store. Emma. His eyes dart around. The store is behind him, the cars to his left. Emma is near the exit. He never made it out of the parking lot. Pathetic. He can't even run away right.

His knees hurt. He must have tripped and landed on them. They feel sticky...blood. He knows that feeling. His face is being pulled again and he's forced to look at her.

"We're going to go back in and you're going to pay for that." Her voice isn't kind but it isn't angry either. She doesn't sound like she hates him. He tries to meet her eyes but she's looking at his hands. He follows her gaze down to the box of Cheerios.

He's outside the store with the Cheerios. He's shoplifted Cheerios. He couldn't leave them behind like...

His life of crime is complete.

Her hands are on his elbows and she's dragging him back up to his feet. He doesn't want to follow her. Wants to wait in the car to avoid the stares. He doesn't tell her that. He wants to so badly that when he bites down on his lip to keep from speaking, he can taste blood dripping down the back of his throat.

His feet move and he's trailing behind her. He can feel Emma's eyes on him from across the parking lot. Knows she's watching him. He ducks his head as they re-enter the store. Sue pays for the food. Pries the box of Cheerios from his hands so the cashier can scan it and then hands it back to him.

She loads the trunk completely before she unlocks the doors. He scrambles inside and buckles his seat belt. He can see Emma in the side mirror. She's crying by the exit. He slumps in his seat.

Sue gets in and starts the car again. When they make it back to his apartment, she can't stop him. He runs up the stairs leaving her to carry in the five grocery bags herself. She huffs a bit but carries up the bags and begins organizing the cupboards.

She has just put away the milk when a noise draws her attention away and she moves to find the source. She pushes open the door to his room expecting to find him hiding under his blankets on the bed.

He's not.

She hears the noise again. She pushes open the closet door and there he is. On his knees, back bowed, face buried in a pillow to muffle the sound of his screaming. She slides to the floor and sits behind him. Every so often for about five minutes, he lets out another choked scream into the pillow.

Sue rarely ever cries. Doesn't feel the need for it. Thinks it's pointless and solves nothing. Watching him come undone now after watching Quinn come undone earlier, she can feel the moisture start to build in her eyes – although she doesn't let it fall.

When a few minutes go by with silence and she can see his grip loosen a bit on the pillow, she speaks gently, "William, you don't need to speak today. It was a mistake taking you out in public so early, I'll admit that. You weren't – aren't ready yet. But I'm not going to let you hide in here away from the world forever. Like it or not, there is someone who needs you and you know exactly who that person is. You're going to get through this and then you're going to help her get through this too." She sighs and then places her hand on his back, "Sit up."

He does even though he doesn't quite look at her. She doesn't try to hide her surprise at how easily he complied.

She rises and retrieves a towel from the bathroom. It's only a moment before she returns, sits next to him, and holds the towel up to his bloody mouth. His eyes move up and meet hers.

"She needs you."

He doesn't answer. They sit like that for a long while until his eyes start to close and then she forces him up and to bed. "I'll be over tomorrow after school, William."

He nods against the pillow and she turns to leave.

"Sue?" His voice cracks and is barely audible but it stops her in her tracks.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Do you...am I..."_ a monster? _His brain supplies what his mouth cannot finish. She stares at him for a long moment and he raises the blanket over his head to escape her gaze. He hears the front door open and close some time later and he allows himself to drift back to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes: Oh, yeah, this one is most definitely rated R (Violence with a capital 'V', suggestive language) and may be difficult in parts to read. It was difficult in parts to write. If you don't like violence, you should probably steer clear.**

**Also, it's getting to that point of no return. If you are strongly in the Quill camp, let me know. If you are strongly against it, let me know. Send me a message or write it in a review (all you anons too...I see you :p ). I am still undecided. I'll take a little vote just to see where you guys stand. I have the last chapter of this written...one with Quill, one without. It'll be like those Goosebumps books where you get to choose your ending. :o**

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Quinn wakes up to the sound of Becky shrieking. She flings herself out of bed and then instantly regrets it as a wave of dizziness washes over her. She shakes her head and then looks around frantically for the girl. She doesn't need to look far.

Becky is standing at the foot of the bed, a giant smile on her face, "He came back!"

Quinn glances at Will. His eyes are twitching beneath his closed lids. She doesn't want Becky to wake him up. She turns back towards the girl and puts her finger to her lips to shush her, "Don't be too loud. He's very tired."

Becky bounces on her feet a bit, smiling. She lowers her voice to nearly a whisper, "I hope he wakes up soon! He was teaching me how to tell time in Spanish and we never got to finish! I'll watch some TV and keep it quiet but come and get me as soon as he's awake!"

She skips off to the couch and Quinn turns her attention back to Will. She needs to assess his injuries. Doesn't want to wait until he wakes up. She sits gingerly on the bed next to him and tries to peek underneath his shirt. It's too dark to see much of anything.

She pinches the hem of the sweatshirt, wonders briefly why Monster made him change his clothes, and carefully rolls it up his back as far as it will go without moving him. She knew what she would find but her eyes well up with tears anyway. There is a maze of welts and lacerations covering most of the skin she can see. She'll need to clean them again. Doesn't want them to get infected.

His jeans are low on his waist and she can just barely see a bruise on his hip poking out from the top of the waist band. She hooks her finger in his belt loop and pulls down slightly to get a better look. It looks like a hand print. There is an identical mark on his other hip – as if he was held down roughly.

She gags then. She knows what Monster did. Knows what Will went through. Tears spill from her eyes and she runs to the toilet. She heaves but nothing comes out. Becky's hand is on her back a moment later without her realizing the girl moved.

"What's the matter? Are you sick again?" She asks worriedly.

Quinn shakes her head, wipes her tears. She can't tell a nine year old _that_...

She shakes her head and pats her on the back, "No, I just got dizzy for a second. I'm okay. You can watch your show, sweetie."

Becky looks at her like she knows that she is lying but she doesn't say anything as she moves and sits back on the couch. Quinn looks back at the sleeping form on the bed. She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves and goes back to him. Lays down next to him and strokes his face lightly with her fingertips for a long while. She finally works up the courage to speak, her voice soft, "Will, it's time to get up. I need to clean those cuts for you."

He inhales deeply but doesn't open his eyes even though she knows from the pattern of his breathing that he is awake, "I missed you. Becky missed you." She traces his cheekbones, his nose. Lets her fingers run along his jawline and to his lips. She ghosts her thumb along his bottom lip and when his eyes open slowly, pulls it away. "Your lips are chapped, do you want some water?"

She doesn't expect him to but he nods slightly. It takes less than a minute to get the water but when she gets back, his breathing has evened out and he's sleeping again. She shakes him awake again and forces him to sit up and drink the water. He pulls himself to his knees and chugs it. She gets him more and he chugs that too. Becky follows her back to the bed the second time.

"Will, I missed you." She smiles shyly as his eyes turn to her. "I've been practicing my Spanish and I thought up some jokes for you. When you're feeling better, I'll tell you them."

His lips quirk up slightly in response. He hands Quinn back the container and then moves to lay back down, "No. I have to clean your back first. I..."

He cuts her off, his voice strained, "I just want to sleep, Quinn."

She can't argue with the pained sound of his voice. She wants to. She wants to more than anything but _she can't. _

She lets him sleep. She and Becky go about their day just like they did when he was gone. He's still laying face down in the same position long after Becky is asleep for the night.

Quinn watches him sleep. Watches for the rise and fall of his chest and the twitch of his closed eyes as he dreams. She reaches out again – runs her fingers along his cheek softly, "Will, it's time to wake up."

He doesn't stir. Her fingers trail a path up to his ear and then down his neck and back up to his hair. Her fingers get stuck in the unruly curls and she has to tug a little to get them free. His eyes shoot open, unfocused, and he flinches away from her.

She swallows hard and reaches out for his face again, cupping it in her palms, "Hey, it's just me. You really need to get up and eat and I need to wash you up..."

His eyes lose their glazed look but he doesn't move, "Quinn, just let me..."

"No. It's time to get up now. If those cuts get infected what are we going to do then? You're not going to start feeling better until you've eaten and drank and cleaned up. So get up!"

He groans in irritation but sits up stiffly, his back protesting the pull of his skin.

He can't say no to her.

She moves off the bed and he follows her to the couch. She pushes him down gently with two fingers against his chest and then busies herself getting him water and soup. She flips on the TV as she comes back and changes it to David Letterman. She snuggles next to his side and he lets her. He finishes off three containers of water, two tomato soups, and a chicken noodle before the show is over. As soon as it ends, she grabs his hand and pulls him up and towards the sink. "Shirt off, sit on the floor."

She has to help him pull his shirt over his head but he gingerly makes it down to the ground on his own. She stoops behind him, inspecting the torn flesh, "This is...pretty bad. But it doesn't look infected at all..."

"He dumped chemical cleaner over me. That will do the trick." His voice is neutral - as though he didn't just confess something horrible and deranged.

She doesn't say anything but lets herself lean forward and kiss the back of his head. His hair is soft but smells like lemon cleanser. She knows what that smells is from, why it's there, and she wants to gag - she doesn't. She'll wash it for him before bed.

She cleans his back with soap and water and after she finishes, she leaves his shirt off so it can air dry. She has him stand and bend over the sink and she gently scrubs his curls for him. She can see his back rise and fall as he sighs heavily but she doesn't know whether it's a content sigh or something else without being able to see his face. She massages his scalp with the shampoo for a long while before she rinses it out and wraps a towel over his head. He straightens up and turns to face her, a slight lop-sided smile on his face.

And that's what does it. She thought after...after what Monster did, he would be angry or sad or full of rage and hate but...he's just Will.

Always just Will.

He looks so, so young and his eyes are so, so green that she can imagine that he is just a boy and she is just a girl and there is no Monster and no basement and no pain and just them. He's not a teacher. She's not a student. She's just Quinn and he's just Will and...and...and...

_Shit._

She didn't want to admit it to herself. Didn't want to admit that the cuddling and the touching and the looks meant anything. Didn't want to admit that she couldn't help doing those things to him because...because...

She loves him.

She knows, in the back of her mind where the rational part of her brain is hiding, that he probably doesn't feel the same. That he won't or can't let himself feel the same way. But she doesn't care right now. She moves her hand up to his chest and rests her palm above his heart. Her eyes meet his and he swallows hard.

"Quinn..." He begins softly but she doesn't get the chance to hear what he was going to say because there is a load creek at the top of the stairs and the lights are turned on, flooding the room in the bright, unnatural fluorescent lights.

Becky wakes up instantly and rushes to their side, hiding slightly behind Will but there is a look of determination on her face. Quinn hopes that look doesn't mean that she's planning on mouthing off.

Monster is on the stairs holding another black bag and then he is in front of them and ordering them to kneel on the ground. He points to a spot on the floor and Becky drops silently. He points to a spot about two feet from her and Will lowers himself down gingerly, his back protesting the movement. He slides the towel off of his head as he drops – not wanting to let Monster see him like that.

He lied. That's all Will can think. After everything else, he lied. He said he'd be gone for a few days and..._he lied._

Monster grabs Quinn by the shoulders and forces her down none-to-gently across from them so they form a triangle. Quinn wants to scream when his flesh comes into contact with her own but she controls herself.

"Well, I know I said we were going to play a board game but I thought of something better for us all to do! We're going to play a little game I like to call 'Who Does Mom Love More'! You see, I know Mom loves Dad more than she loves me because she let him do all those _things_ to me without stopping him. But who does Mom love more out of these two...Dad?" He stops and gives Will's hair a firm tug. Will manages to keep his eyes straight ahead and trained on Quinn but he can't shake the feeling of the asshole's fingers in his hair.

It disgusts him. He wishes he could cut it off. Doesn't want to remember that feeling anymore.

"Or Kathy?" He stops at Becky and puts his face directly next to hers, grinning at Quinn from above the girl's shoulder. Becky is trembling but she's managed to keep the tears from her eyes for now. The look of determination is gone now and she's just a scared little girl.

"Here are the rules: I will pose a choice to Mom. Only Mom is allowed to speak. If Dad speaks, Kathy gets punished. If Kathy speaks, Dad gets punished. You need to be quiet. Mom can't have any help with this." He stands and claps his hands cheerfully.

"Round one is easy but then they'll start to get harder. He approaches his black bag and pulls out a wrapped package of Oreo cookies. The type that her mom used to put in her lunch when she was in elementary school and didn't care about being thin. "None of you have really eaten any solid food in a few weeks and you're all looking a bit on the scrawny side." He pinches Becky's cheek as he walks by to stand between her and Will and she flinches away slightly. "Soup is delicious. It's Mom's favorite but it's only so filling. I bet these cookies would be delicious right now. So who gets them, Mom? Dad or Becky?"

He starts humming the Jeopardy theme song.

Quinn wants to kick him.

She looks to Becky. Her eyes are glassy and Quinn knows it's only a matter of time before she starts crying. Her eyes flit to Will. He's still looking calmly at her but as soon as she makes eye contact with him, his eyes dart to Becky and then back to Quinn.

He's telling her to give the cookies to Becky.

She chokes a bit on her dry tongue but manages to turn her attention to Monster, "Kathy gets the cookies."

"Perfect! You choose your child over your husband! Maybe you'll learn to do the same for me one day!" He hands Becky the package of cookies and claps his hands in delight. He doesn't move on with the game until Becky has eaten all four cookies. Her teeth have cookie crumbs in them. Quinn will have to monitor her brushing before bed to make sure she cleans them properly.

Just like a mother would do.

She pushes the thought away.

As Becky eats, she moves her eyes back to Will. He's still looking at her. His lips quirk up ever so slightly and he mouths a silent 'it's okay' to her. She wants to return the smile and say the same to him but Monster is watching her. Will's hair is dripping over his bare chest and she watches the drops travel downward until Monster's voice invades her ears again.

"Now, round two." He rummages through the bag before producing a 20 ounce bottle of orange juice, "Vitamin C, calcium, vitamins. Delicious. Who gets it, Mom?" He's smiling – an evil, twisted sneer.

Quinn doesn't need to look at Will this time to know what his eyes will say, "Bec...Kathy."

Monster hands the bottle to the girl and she drinks it down quickly, a couple of tears rolling down her cheeks now as her stomach protests being full after so long without solid foods.

"Good, good. Round three." He rummages once more and this time produces the leather strap. Quinn's stomach clenches at the sight on it. "Now, here's the tough one. One of them gets to join me upstairs for a little fun." He stoops next to Becky and pinches her chin roughly in his hand, "Sweet little Kathy..." He stands and moves to Will, kneeling behind him, he leans forward and places a gentle but sadistic kiss against the shell of his ear. "Or dear old Dad?"

Quinn wants to puke. He's making her choose which one he's going to rape. Which one he's going to torture. She's going to have to send one of them up there and he's going to...

She needs to pick one and then he'll...and it will be _her fault._

_How can she possibly live with that?_

She can't. She looks at Becky first. The little girl is white and shaking, ugly tears and snot marring her face now. She may not know exactly what Monster did to Will but she knows he came back hurt and knows if Monster takes her, she'll be hurt too.

Quinn's eyes move and meet Will's. His jaw is tight and there is something there – something in his expression. Anger? Rage? And...fear? His eyes don't blink towards Becky this time.

He's asking her to send _him_.

She can't do that..._can't, can't, can't, can't._

Monster stands. She's taking too long. He brings the strap up over his shoulder but doesn't strike down, "Which one, Mom?"

Her tongue is sandpaper. Her throat is clenched. She won't do this. She won't send one of them to...

He brings the strap down.

On Becky.

The girl screams and falls forward as the strap hits her back. Will's head jerks to the side and he moves to go to her but Monster stands between them, "Move and I'll bring it down across her face next. And remember...no speaking. You wouldn't want to hurt anyone by speaking." He sing songs and nearly skips around Becky's prone body.

Will stays still but Quinn can see that he's trembling. Out of fear or anger, she doesn't know.

She wants to vomit.

Monster brings the strap back up, "Which one, Mom?"

Tears well up in her eyes and she can't breathe. She can't do this.

He brings the strap down.

On Will.

He hisses and arches his still bare back against it. His pleading eyes find Quinn's and he opens his mouth to speak but the sound of the strap coming down again interrupts anything he was going to say.

Becky screams in pain again as the strap hits her thigh. Quinn can see a puddle forming beneath her. She's wet herself.

Quinn is sobbing now. Her stomach clenches terribly and then she's pitching forward and vomiting its contents on the ground in front of her. Bile and tomato soup.

"Which one, Mom?" Monster's voice is behind her now. She opens her mouth but still, nothing comes out. She can't send Becky, she's too young. Too innocent. But she can't send _him_ back. It will break him. She can't do it to him. She can't stay here without him again. She can't...

The strap hits her between the shoulder blades and she screams out. It hits her again and she screams and doesn't stop. It hits her again and she can hear _his _voice over the roar in her ears.

"Stop! Stop it! Quinn just..."

Monster moves towards Becky again. "I warned you to keep your mouth shut! Every time you speak, someone will get hurt!" He brings the strap down across the girl's leg and her screams mix with Quinn's and...

"Take him! Take him!" Quinn shouts, sobbing painfully. Her back is on fire. Becky's screams and cries are making her nauseous. She leans forward and heaves and heaves until her vision starts to cloud and then she hears two sets of feet on the stairs and she looks up just in time to see Will's legs disappear from sight.

He's gone again and she can't do this and she just wants to give up but Becky..._Oh, Becky._

She crawls forward painfully, her back protesting every movement. She can feel sticky liquid dripping down her back but she sits and pulls the girl on her lap – not caring about the piss or snot or blood or pain. There is blood on Becky's pants but not as much as Quinn thought there would be. He wasn't as rough with Becky or Quinn as he was with Will. He was trying to scare them, not beat them into submission.

Quinn sobs and clutches Becky tight to her chest and Becky sobs with her. She'll clean them up. She'll clean them up and wash their wounds and mop up the mess but not yet.

Not yet.


	21. Chapter 21

**Nope, this one is not rated R and nothing terrible happens. Yay! Except, expect more awful things next time...and the time after that...and after that...and you know...**

**Thank you as always for the reviews, messages, and suggestions. **

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Finn is able to spend three weeks with Mr. Schue before everything goes to shit. If he knew the endgame before the first time he visited the apartment with Coach Sylvester, maybe he never would have.

It's a Friday afternoon when he finally gets the courage to approach her. He watches Coach Sylvester's office waiting for her to emerge and when she finally does, he pounces before he can talk himself out of it.

Sue is exhausted. Not even her strongest vitamin smoothie is enough to shake the tired from her bones. With creating routines, Cheerio's practice, Jean, press interviews, focusing all her spare time at school on Quinn, and all her spare time after school on Schuester – she's quickly running herself into the ground.

Quinn has spent the three days since Sue suggested it, tucked away in Sue's office. She doesn't talk to any of the other students except her small circle of Glee friends, but she has, at least, been completing her school work. She has also been spacing out less while at Cheerio's practice.

Thank goodness for small miracles.

Sue has taken time to visit Will both nights since the incident at the grocery store. The first night he doesn't even look at her. When she tries to read to him, he buries his face under his blankets and refuses to listen. He leaves his dinner untouched. She knows that he's ashamed of himself and wants to hide but she can't let him.

Yesterday, he at least ate his turkey sandwich after she threatened to spend the night. If he wants to be difficult, she will too. She plans on stopping by tonight long enough to make him another sandwich since she doesn't think he eats otherwise, but she needs to find time to sleep at some point and she doesn't think he'll miss her if she doesn't stick around long.

She vaguely wonders where the hell his parents have been and why it has fallen entirely on her to make sure that he doesn't starve to death.

She heads out of her office towards Figgin's office. Quinn's teachers have been dropping her work off with Figgins and Sue has been picking it up for her and then returning the completed work to her teachers. She puts on her best 'don't fuck with me face' and stomps through the hall. She should have known that it wouldn't have worked. She's not that lucky.

"Hi, uh, Coach Sylvester. I...uh..you see, I kind of heard that you've seen Mr. Schue and I..." Finn Hudson. Of course it would be a Glee kid.

"And where exactly did you hear that piece of gossip?" She narrows her eyes in anticipation for his answer. If it was the bony red-head who squealed...

"Um, well, I...I may have been sitting outside his apartment building one day and I may have seen you go in and not come out for a while." He swallows nervously and shoves his hands as far into his pockets as they can go.

"Why would you be sitting outside his apartment building?" She has no idea where this conversation is going and she can feel her frustration mounting.

"I...uh...I, well not me, really. It was Rachel's idea. She stole the key from your desk and we, uh, we kind of broke into his apartment a few weeks ago." He wishes he didn't start this conversation. Her face is really angry.

"You did what?! Why would..."

He cuts her off, trying to explain quickly to avoid a verbal (and possible physical – it is Coach Sylvester after all) beating. "I really missed him and wanted to see him but he wasn't answering the phone and I know Rachel just mostly wanted to find out when Glee was starting again but I really, really wanted to see him but then he sort of freaked out and well, I just really wanted you to tell him again that I'm really, really sorry."

He says it all in one big breath and she wades through the information trying to piece together the story, "What do you mean exactly by 'freaked out'?"

"Well, he...he...he didn't know it was us, I guess and he cried kind of and screamed a lot and tried to run away and then he realized we were...us...and then he told us to go away." He leaves out the part where he punched Finn in the head a bunch of times. He doesn't want to get Mr. Schue in trouble and besides, Finn had deserved it.

She's at a loss. She wants to yell at him for having the audacity to break into her office but his face is so hurt, she can't. She can't have another person suffering needlessly because of their guilt over a situation that wasn't really in their control. She sighs heavily and turns to walk away but then an idea smacks her across the face and she turns back to the stricken teen. "Why don't you tell him yourself? I'm going over there tonight to make him dinner. You can meet me in front of the building and we'll go in together. He's used to my presence now so he's not going to lose control again."

_It could be true._

Finn's eyes go wide and then he looks down, lost in thought for a moment before smiling up at her. "I really would like to see him again...this time without having to break in."

"Fantastic. Meet me at five in the parking garage and don't bring Berry. She's grating in the best of situations." She warns with a finger in his face.

"Oh, no...no, just me. I'll see you at five!"

Finn spends the next two classes with a big smile on his face. The assholes on the hockey team eyeball him and he can tell that they want to call him gay or whatever but they don't. Mostly everyone is still too on edge for name calling By the time last period rolls around though, he's a wreck. What if this was a mistake? What if Mr. Schue doesn't want to see him? What if he's mad about what happened before?

What if...what if..._what if..._

He makes it home in a daze. When Rachel asks him what he's doing after school he tells her that he's studying for a test. She obviously knows he's lying but he doesn't care. He's too nervous to care. He showers and shaves and changes his clothes...and then changes them again...and again, until he realizes that Mr. Schue probably doesn't care what he's wearing or how he smells.

And then he just feels like a giant fool.

He walks. It isn't too far to Mr. Schue's apartment and the fresh air does wonders to clear his head – at least temporarily. He's a few minutes early but Coach Sylvester is already there waiting for him. She's holding a big Chinese takeout bag and a half gallon of milk. Her version of "making dinner".

"Ground rules..." She begins as he falls into step next to her, "Number one: Don't try to make him speak. It doesn't go over well. Number two: Don't mention anything about what happened over the summer. I haven't even broached that subject yet. Number three: Don't stare. He doesn't like it. Number four: And this is the most important, if he has one of those 'freak outs' as you called it, grab his face and make him look you in the eye. Sometimes people with PTSD have a hard time anchoring on to the present. He had one of those incidents with me too and grabbing his face calmed him down."

Finn nods and takes a deep breath. PTSD? He reminds himself to Google it later.

They're standing in front of his door. Coach Sylvester doesn't knock – she uses her key and walks right in. Finn thinks it's a little rude but doesn't say anything as he follows her..

It's freezing. The living room windows are open and there are space heaters blasting but they aren't doing anything to keep the cold out. Coach Sylvester moves around the room and shuts the windows and Finn watches. "And now we have to find where ever he has hidden himself today..."

She moves through the apartment and Finn follows. He's not in the living room or kitchen or bedroom or bathroom...or the craft room. She is about to to take a second run through because really – where else would he be? - when an idea strikes Finn. "Fire escape?"

She nods (because it's a reasonable idea although she's never caught him out there before) and moves towards the living room windows and...yup, there he is. She opens up the window, feeling momentarily guilty because she locked him out in the cold but he doesn't seem to even realize that it happened. She sighs heavily, "William, play time is over and now it's time to come in and have dinner."

His eyes turn slowly to her and it looks as though he wants to say something because he's chewing on his bottom lip but he of course, does not. He pulls his blanket more tightly around himself and stands up from the edge, stretching a bit. Sue watches as he pulls himself back through the window. "It's 40 degrees out, William."

He gestures slightly towards the window and raises his eyebrows in response. She sighs heavily. "Fresh air, yes, I know."

Finn wonders how exactly she knew what he meant with that gesture or if she was just guessing. He also wonder if maybe he spends enough time here, maybe he could possibly learn to guess too...

Maybe things could get back to where they used to be...

And then Mr. Schue notices him and his eyebrows go up even further in surprise and Finn knows that he isn't exactly happy to see him, "Hi, Mr. Schue. I...I...I hope you don't uh, mind me being here. I just, I really just wanted to – you know, I wanted to say I'm sorry for you know, um...that day Rachel and I..."

He walks by Finn and sits on the couch, clearly uncomfortable. Finn stares at him – he's thin, even compared to the last time he was here. His face is covered in a couple of days worth of stubble and Finn wonders if it's because maybe he doesn't care enough to shave or maybe it's because he's out of razors? Finn decides that he'll check around the bathroom before he leaves. He ran out of razors once and his mom didn't have time to bring him to the store. It was mortifying.

Puck teased him about the pencil mustache that grew on his upper lip for months even after he shaved it.

Luckily for Mr. Schue, he can actually grow a real beard.

His lips are bruised terribly and it makes the rest of his face look deathly pale, like he hasn't seen sunlight in a very long time. Finn thinks he probably hasn't.

Finn has to look away from him. He still looks like Mr. Schue – just broken, and Finn's stomach clenches and he feels as though he could throw up or cry at any moment. He imagines this is what it feels like to loose a big brother except, well, he's not _really_ gone.

He sits awkwardly on the other side of the couch. "Okay, boys – dinner and a movie tonight. Are you going to choose the movie, William?" He stares blankly at her in response, "Didn't think so. Hudson, the DVDs are next to the TV, why don't you choose. I'll get some plates."

Finn stands and moves to the shelf with the movies. He thinks he feels Mr. Schue's eyes on his back but when he turns around, the man is staring down. He turns back and scans the titles. There are a lot of action movies and dramas, a few westerns, a couple of weird looking foreign movies, and musicals.

Just about every musical ever made, Finn thinks.

He runs his fingers along the titles until he eventually stops on one that looks like it might be fun instead of depressing and full of sappy love songs. He figures out the DVD player and plops it in just as Coach Sylvester comes back with plates and drinks.

"Alright, let's pass out the food and then watch the movie." She riffles through the bag and pulls out two containers, "William, rice or lo mein?" She has to ask twice but eventually he points at the rice container in her right hand. She scoops some on to a plate and tells Finn to help himself, which the teen gladly does – loading his plate with chicken, lo mein, and some weird vegetable side. He'll eat anything as long as it's covered in enough sauce.

"William, sesame chicken or beef and broccoli?" His hand goes out and he points to the sesame chicken container in her right hand. She narrows her eyes at him but shovels some onto the plate.

"Fried tofu or vegetable stir fry?" His nose crinkles ever so slightly as he points at the fried tofu in her right hand and she catches on. She switches the containers in her hands and he points at the stir fry in her right hand, "Stop that! I see what you're doing!"

She puts her head down to scoop some of the veggies onto his plate and misses the slight smirk that ghosts his face.

Finn doesn't.

She hands him his plate and then makes her own and then they move back on the couch to watch the movie. The intro to "Singin' in the Rain" pops up on the scream and Finn leans forward to look at Mr. Schue's reaction. He's sitting forward slightly and his eyes seem a little less dead then they had before.

Finn thinks it's a good sign.

The movie is half-over and their plates are empty when Coach Sylvester suggests that it's time to get going. Finn doesn't want to – the movie is funny and the songs are sweet and he's enjoying just sitting in relatively comfortable silence but she starts to stand and then Finn can see behind her to the look on Mr. Schue's face.

He looks positively stricken.

Finn clears his throat and puts his hand out to stop Coach Sylvester. "I really, really want to watch the end. I've never seen this before and..."

She looks at him, eyebrows raised but doesn't say anything. She looks to Mr. Schue and his face is blank again and Finn thinks it's incredibly, incredibly sad that Mr. Schue is still in there and he's lonely and scared but he's hiding behind this blank mask of empty.

It makes his eyes sting.

It makes him want to call Quinn.

Because if Mr. Schue is going through this, what must she be going through? Maybe she's scared and hiding too...

"Fine," She sighs and sits back. She's tired and wants to go home but this has been an uneventful night and that's a good thing.

It's another forty-five minutes and then the movie is over and Coach Sylvester has put the dishes in the dishwasher and retrieved her coat. Mr. Schue watches the credits roll and Finn wonders if he's spacing out or listening to the music but then the same little smirk crawls across his face for a second and Finn _knows _and Finn _wants_ _so desperately _to be able to make him smile again.

He excuses himself to the bathroom but neither adult acknowledges him. He feels guilty going through the cabinets but he confirms his earlier suspicions. No razors.

He'll buy some after school tomorrow and when Coach Sylvester comes over again, he'll have a reason to be here too.

He's says good-bye to Mr. Schue and even though the man doesn't look at him, he notices a slight stiffening in the muscles in his face. He doesn't know what it means but maybe he'll find out one day. He turns down a ride from Coach Sylvester even though it's cold outside.

He has something to do...

He's half-way down the street before he gets up the nerve to pull out his cell phone and hit send over Quinn's name. He briefly thinks he should be proud of himself for his decisiveness today as the phone rings once...twice...three times...

And she answers. Her voice is very quiet like she's afraid that maybe he dialed the wrong number and didn't mean to call her at all. It makes his eyes sting yet again. "Finn?"

"Quinn, I just – I know we haven't talked at all and that's entirely my fault but I just really wanted to tell you that if you need anything...or...anyone...or you know, well, I'm here for you. I want to be here for you even if you just need someone to sit with or watch movies with or do homework with or whatever. I'd like to be one of those people for you."

There is a long pause and he thinks she's hung up but then her quiet voice is back and cracking slightly and he kicks himself when it sounds like she's been crying but then he thinks that maybe it's the good kind of crying and that's okay, "Thank you."

"And Quinn? I really, really mean it. If you ever just want to talk...I'm here for you."

She sniffles into the receiver and then there is no sound on the other line at all and he knows she's hung up but it's okay because for the first time in a very, very long time he thinks that everything could end up being okay.


	22. Chapter 22

**Yup, Rated R (violence, suggestive language, sexual situations).**

**Notes: The song Will sang to Quinn 48 chapters ago was Laura Jansen's version of "Use Somebody" by Kings of Leon. The song Quinn sings here is Adele's version of "Make You Feel My Love" by Bob Dylan. Awesome versions...and now I can't get sued. Hooray! :p**

*** … * … * … * … ***

Monster is zipping his pants. He dumps the bucket of lemon floor cleaner over Will's head and it burns but not as badly as before. He follows it with the bucket of cold water. Monster hands him a towel and a change of clothes and watches as he gets dressed.

Everything happens the way it did last time except the belt...he doesn't beat him with the belt first this time. He threw him to the ground as soon as they made it up the stairs and then he...he...did what he did.

Maybe he thinks there is no point in beating him down? Will feels so downtrodden and broken, he probably wouldn't be able to fight back anyway. He didn't struggle at all this time. It hurt less. Quinn and Becky are mostly safe downstairs. That's something.

There is really no point in fighting. The Monster makes it plainly obvious that he has the gun with him at all times. Keeps it clutched in his right hand as he holds Will down by the neck with his left and...

He watches the suds from the cleaner form into shapes on the ground.

Monster leaves and is gone a long time. Will sits in the one clean corner in the room. It's not covered in blood or piss or vomit or floor cleaner or the Monster's...

He gags but doesn't throw up. That's also something.

He leans his head against the hard wall and must fall asleep because when he opens his eyes again, the sun is coming out and it casts a soft orange glow in the room.

It's pretty.

Or it would be any where else.

His legs and back get very stiff and he has to stand and walk around the room to try to loosen his muscles. He approaches the window and stands on his toes to look out...trees and dead leaves. They are in the woods. He wonders how Monster managed to drag both he and Quinn through the woods that first day. He supposes it doesn't really matter.

He tries to pull it open. Maybe if he could get Monster to bring both Quinn and Becky up here they could fit through the window and run. He could stay behind and try to fight him off.

It doesn't budge. It's nailed shut.

Wonderful.

He hears footsteps outside the door and he moves back to his corner and slides down the wall. He closes his eyes, brings up his legs, and rests his head against his arms. Monster stalks down the stairs, every click of his shoes on the stairs sends a pang of panic up Will's spine.

He keeps his face neutral, his eyes closed.

He can feel Monster watching him. Can feel those black eyes staring for the longest time.

And then he hears him turn and go back upstairs.

He opens his eyes and he's alone again. That's something too...

Monster didn't want to wake him up. Even rapist murderers have manners apparently.

He's alone again for a while. He wonders what Quinn and Becky are doing. How badly Monster hurt them...if they're okay...if they're scared...

_Of course they are._

He doesn't try the window again. Doesn't get up and move around again. His muscles hurt terribly but he doesn't care enough to move them.

He sits there until the sun starts to set. The orange glow is back in the basement.

It isn't pretty anymore. Just depressing.

The door opens and the footsteps are back. He closes his eyes – pretends to sleep. Monster is in front of him. He feels the fingers run through his hair and can't help flinching.

Monster knows he's awake now. He braces for the blow but it never comes.

When he opens his eyes Monster is sitting next to him against the wall. The gun is dangling from his hand. "What's your name?"

His name? "Dad."

Monster sighs sadly. His voice is very quiet. "No. Your name."

"I...I...don't know what you want me to say." His chest hurts terribly and he can't help the way his voice cracks. He wants to cry. He doesn't.

"I took you from that Target. You and the blonde haired woman. What's your name?" His voice is still calm. Still quiet.

He doesn't want to give this creature his name. It's _his._ He also doesn't want to face the consequences if he doesn't. "Will. My name is Will."

He nods. "And the girls?"

"Quinn and Becky."

He nods again. A thoughtful look on his face. Will feels sick. "You look like him. My dad, I mean. That's why I took you. You have the curly hair and it makes it easier to pretend. My mom is tall and blonde like the girl in the parking lot that I...I...well, I meant to take that one but I missed and shot the wrong one."

Brittany.

He had wanted Brittany. Quinn was supposed to die.

Will gags. Retches but doesn't puke. Monster stares at him for the longest time but doesn't say anything. After his stomach settles, they are both silent for the longest time. Will can feel the heat coming off of Monster's body. He wants to move away.

"It's my birthday today." He whispers it and Will isn't sure he is supposed to respond but then Monster is staring at him as if he expects something.

"Happy birthday."

"My mom was supposed to take me out for the weekend but my dad is in jail and she went to visit him instead. She choose him over me again." His voice is starting to sound angry.

That's why he lied. That's why he didn't leave them alone for a few days. That's why he made Quinn play that game. That's why he beat Becky. That's why he raped Will again.

His mother stood him up.

Will's hands are shaking but he isn't sure if he's angry or scared or cold or something else. He stares at his socks. Misses his shoes. They're downstairs with Becky and Quinn...

Quinn who is supposed to be dead.

Becky who could be murdered at any moment.

"I just want to have a family who loves me! Is anything so wrong with that!?" He slaps his hand against the concrete. The sound makes Will jump. Puts his nerves even more on edge. "Are you married?"

"No. Divorced." He answers quickly. Doesn't want to give Monster a reason to get more angry.

"Divorced, huh? Couldn't keep it together? Did your wife choose the kids over you?" He sounds...hopeful.

"No. I thought...she told me she was pregnant and she lied. There were no children." It still hurts. Even now, out of the blue, he can look at Quinn and remember his..._not his_...little girl and feel his eyes sting. He doesn't let her know it though. Excuses himself to the sink and splashes water on his face.

"Women are such bitches. I hate them all." He slaps his hand on the ground again.

Will doesn't respond although the words makes him queasy again.

"I like you. All of you. You aren't like the others I took. I couldn't pretend with them. They all hated each other. Were all so ready to turn on each other. The first bitch sent the girl upstairs instead of the man. I bashed her head in. I didn't kill the rest until her body started to stink really bad though. I had to use a lot of bleach to get rid of the smell. "

He says it so non-nonchalantly Will has to stop himself from retching again. _I woke up, went to the store, came home, cut the grass, raped a little girl, murdered a woman, watched a movie, went to bed. You know, typical day._

He feels his eyes tear up again and blinks it back quickly.

"The second family. The woman sent the man upstairs but then she wouldn't take a beating for the boy. I bashed her head in too. And then I made the boy choose the girl or the man. He wouldn't do it so I shot them all. It's a shame. I liked the boy."

Will clutches his middle. He pictures Monster beating Quinn's head with the gun. It feels like his organs want to spill out.

"It's okay though. I've already decided that I'm not going to do that to you. I want to keep you for a while. You're sweet. And the woman, even though she's the wrong one...I like her too."

Will swallows hard but can't speak. He thinks he's supposed to.

"Do you want to go back downstairs? I got some more food for you to take down with you. I put bread in there too this time. I don't want you guys going hungry."

How considerate.

Will nods and stands as the Monster retrieves a box off the stairs. More soup. More crackers. A few loaves of bread and bottles of warm Dr. Pepper. More soap. More shitty razors. More ibuprofen. More shampoo.

They aren't leaving anytime soon. He isn't going to kill them. They aren't going to escape.

Monster opens the door and Will walks through. He makes it down the stairs but his chest is constricting painfully and he has to sit at the bottom. He sees Quinn looking at him.

Quinn who has been so brave. Quinn who has gone through so much and come out stronger on the other side for it.

Quinn who is supposed to be dead and buried in the ground.

He can't breathe.

* … * … * … * … *

Quinn cleans up the mess she and Becky made. Cleans their clothes. Cleans the cuts on Becky's leg and back and helps her wash up. Monster didn't hit hard enough to break much of her skin. It's mostly just a very large, painful looking bruise.

Becky wipes the blood away from Quinn's back. The marks aren't deep but there will be scars.

They lay on the couch together. Nod off for a while and then wake up. Becky curls up in a blanket. Quinn curls up in Will's jacket. The TV lends background noise but they aren't really watching it. Becky cries softly most of the day. Quinn doesn't. She can't.

They don't eat. They don't wash up again. They drink a little water before Quinn puts Becky into bed and tucks her in for the night. She wants to sleep too but she can't.

Her mind won't shut off.

She's a terrible person. She's going to hell.

She's probably already there.

How could she send him up there like that?! She knows what Monster is doing to him. Knows what he already did to him. How could she do that?! She should have sent herself. Should have fought or done...something, anything...

He's going to hate her now. She loves him and he's going to hate her.

Probably already does.

And why not? She's fat and worthless and ugly and a screw up and pathetic and stupid and a waste and...

_And...and...and..._

She hears the door open and shut. Hears footsteps on the stairs but they're quiet. Will. He didn't have his shoes...

His clothes are different and he's holding a large box. Dark jeans and a blue t-shirt and clean white socks and...and...he's falling. He drops the box to the side and wraps his arms around his middle.

She stares at him for a moment, not sure if she should go to him, not sure if he wants her to go to him after what she did to him...

But then her legs are moving and she's only a couple of feet away and she can see him clearly now. His breaths are coming out in quick, loud gasps. His eyes are unfocused and huge.

What did Monster do to him?

He's hyperventilating.

She has to help him even though he probably doesn't want her too.

She moves forward and kneels so they are eye level. She cups his face in her palms and forces him to look her in the eye, "Breathe, Will. Look at me. You're okay...you're okay...you're okay. You need to breathe."

His eyebrows scrunch together. She knows that he sees her now. It takes a long moment but his breathing slows a bit and she isn't afraid he's going to pass out anymore. She expects him to push her away. To shove her and yell and call her pathetic and a bitch...

He doesn't.

His eyes well up. She hasn't seen him cry the entire time they've been here. What the hell did Monster do?! Quinn wants to kill him. Wants to watch the blood drain from his body. Wants to..

And then Will is sobbing. Painful, gut-wrenching, gasping, ugly sobs. He grabs Quinn by the jacket and pulls her tightly against his chest. She has to squeeze her arms out from between them so she can wrap them around him. He buries his face in her neck and she can feel his tears dripping down her chest.

Her stomach clenches tightly.

He can't calm down. She can feel him trying to control his breathing where his chest is pressed up against her own but he can't do it. She rubs his neck – wants to rub his back but the lacerations – she doesn't want to hurt him more. How can she calm him down?

She opens her mouth to say something...anything. She can't think of anything to say to make it better.

Music. Glee club. It always helps.

"When the rain is blowing in your face, and the whole world is on your case, I could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love. When the evening shadows and the stars appear and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love..."

She sings softly in his ear and pets the hair at the base of his neck softly. His breathing is hitched and she can still feel the tears on her neck but he isn't gasping for air or sobbing anymore. She feels his eyes scrunch closed against her skin.

"I know you haven't made your mind up yet but I will never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong. I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue. I'd go crawling down the avenue. No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do, to make you feel my love..."

His shoulders relax. He turns his head slightly and she can feel his shuddering breath against her neck. She kisses the top of his head very gently. He needs gentle.

"The storms are waging on the rolling sea and on the highway of regret. The winds of change are blowing wild and free. You ain't seen nothing like me yet. I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. Nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the Earth for you, to make you feel my love. To make you feel my love."

His breathing has slowed and for a second she thinks he has fallen asleep but then his arms tighten around her before letting her go. She moves back and cups his face again. His eyes are red and his face is covered in drying tears. "You're okay."

He nods shakily and tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace.

"What happened?"

He laughs but then it turns into a sob and he wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, "I...I...can't fit out the window."

It's stupid. He knows that she knows that he's lying. He can't tell her they're going to be here for who knows how long. Can't tell her that they can't escape because they're in the middle of the woods and have no where to go. Can't tell her that she's supposed to be...she's supposed to be dead.

He feels his eyes sting again and buries his face in his hands but she pulls them away and holds his face again, "It's okay. Whatever it is. I'm so sorry I sent you up there to that. I'm so, so sorry that...it's my fault! I should have sent myself! I should have done something to protect you! I should have..." Her voice breaks and she can feel her own tears start to roll down her cheeks and then his hands are on her cheeks and she meets his eyes and there is no anger there. No blame. No hate.

She leans forward. She isn't sure why she does it. Isn't sure that it's right or he wants to or...or...or...

She presses her lips against his and she can taste salt and smell lemon cleaner and he isn't kissing back but she doesn't care. She pulls back very slightly and she can feel his breath on her lips and then she can't because his mouth is against hers and he's kissing her back. It's soft and sweet and then it's frantic and he's trying to pull her as close to his body as she can get. He's desperate. Desperate to convince himself that she's alive and here and okay.

The butterflies explode out of Quinn's stomach and she feels overwhelmingly happy because this is what she wanted. He's Will and she's Quinn and he's hers and no one and nothing can break them apart...

She wants to taste him. She opens her mouth slightly and flicks her tongue along his bottom lip asking permission to take this further. She desperately w_ants_ this to go further. But his arms move and his hands are on her shoulders and he's pushing her away gently.

He stands and his eyes look wild and his hair is messed up and she just wants to kiss him again. "I can't do this. I just... I can't...I'm sorry." And there are tears in his eyes again and his voice is cracking and he turns his back to her, "I'll sleep on the couch. I'm sorry. I'm s...sorry."

And then he's on the couch and laying down and she can hear him crying softly even though he's trying not to. And she knows she can't go to him because he'll push her away so she walks to the bed and lays down and pulls his jacket as tightly around herself as it will go.

It's the loneliest she's felt since she's been here.


	23. Chapter 23

Notes: No, poor Will isn't taking all the punishment. For all of those who are wondering, Quinn's bad days will be coming soon.

Annnnnd Jordan of 2013, I do have fluffy chapters in the work...but not this one. :p Rated R for suggestive language.

* … * … * ... * … * … *

**October 5th**

Quinn opens her eyes slowly – her head feels as though it's stuffed with cotton and her body feels heavy, as if there is an invisible weight pushing down on every muscle. As soon as her eyes focus, she knows something is wrong.

_Everything is wrong._

The concrete is gone – the couch, the beds, the TV, the stairs, the wardrobe, everything. The room she's in now is white and sterile. The bed she's laying on is soft and smells like disinfectant.

She's in a hospital.

Alone.

_Where is Will?_

_Where is Monster?!_

She feels her heartbeat speed up just before the monitor behind her starts beeping wildly. A nurse rushes in. An older woman with gray hair and horned-rimmed glasses. She's the first person besides Will, Becky, and Monster that Quinn has seen since July.

Quinn wants to hit her. Knock her over and run away.

_Where is Will?_

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down. Leave the monitors and the IV alone. You're very dehydrated and malnourished, you need that so you will feel better."

Quinn didn't realize she was trying to pull the wires from her arms. There is a trickle of blood dripping down her arm towards the hand shaped bruise on her wrist.

_Monster is on top of her, pulling her hair, ripping her clothes, holding her down. It hurts. Everything hurts. She can't breathe. There is screaming and then everything is red and sticky..._

_So much blood._

She can't breathe. The nurse is yelling at her. A doctor rushes in...and then another...and another...and then her mom.

Mom.

_Mom will help!_

She tries to control her breathing. Pictures Will's hand on her face calling her name, kissing her nose, brushing her hair back.

_His hands are covered in blood, his face is covered in blood. _

She gasps and grips at her chest weakly, trying to calm down. Her mom sits on the bed next to her and pulls her into her arms gently, hugging her tightly. The doctors are shouting instructions and medications and...

_Everything is red, everything hurts._

Everything is white. Her mom is kissing her face, brushing her hair back, telling her to calm down.

_Everything is black. The dirt is cold beneath her feet. The shovel heavy in her hand. The trees stand still and dark, the stars are bright but mocking._

"If you don't calm down, we'll have to sedate you!" There is a doctor yelling near her ear.

"No. We need to speak to her." A stern looking older man in a suit sticks his head in the room, stares at Quinn. His eyes are dark. His badge glints in the fluorescent lights.

Quinn feels the scream form in the pit of her stomach before it tears from her lungs. She's screaming and can't stop. He's going to hurt her.

_They're going to hurt her!_

_Where is Monster?!_

_Where is Will?!_

One of the doctor's pushes a syringe full of liquid into the IV on her arm. She wants to rip it out. They're working with _him._ They're going to rape her. They're going to kill her.

Her eyes get heavy and she feels herself falling back. Her mother is crying. The stern man at the door rolls his eyes and walks away. She's not worth his time.

She's not worth anyone's time.

She can't keep her eyes open. Her head feels fuzzy and light.

_Where is Will?_

* … * … * … * … * … *

Terri Schuester's phone rings on a Thursday night. She doesn't recognize the number but answers anyway. It may be another reporter and she isn't going to give up a chance at an interview.

It's not. It's a doctor. They found them. They found him! She slides to the ground in the middle of Sheets and Things. People stare but she can't care right now.

She tries to listen. Expects them to tell her that she needs to drive to the morgue to identify the body but they don't. She's given a room number and told to go to the hospital. She grabs her purse, barks a few orders at Howard Bamboo, and then she's out the door.

She arrives at the hospital in a daze. Yells at an older nurse with horned-rimmed glasses to bring her to the room number the doctor gave her. She walks by Quinn Fabray's mother on the way to the room. She looks older, weary. Terri hopes that she doesn't look like that – doesn't have the same lines on her face. She'll need to find a mirror...

A doctor comes out and greets her.

"Did you...is he alive?" Her voice quivers but she can't make it stop.

"He's alive." He pauses while Terri cries and then composes herself.

"But...but...why did you call me?" She doesn't mention the divorce but it isn't exactly a secret around town. The girls who went to high school with her still whisper behind her back about it. _There goes crazy Terri Del Monico. Did you hear what she did to sweet Will Schuester? What a bitch._

They're the bitches!

The doctor looks confused. He looks over Terri's head at a nurse before turning his attention back to Terri, "You're listed as the emergency contact on his insurance. Is that not correct?"

Thank God Will is so scatter-brained! Of course he wouldn't have changed his insurance information. "No! No, it's correct! I'm his wife after all!" She laughs nervously and the doctor gives her a sideways look, "Can I see him? Is he awake?"

"You can see him but he's not awake." He turns and leads her into a sterile room. Will is laying on the bed and Terri can't suppress the cry that escapes her mouth when she sees him. The bottom half of his face is covered by an oxygen mask. There are IV's and monitors – wires every where. She can see bandages on his chest poking out from underneath the hospital gown...they're stained red. He's much thinner and so, so pale that the dark circles underneath his eyes stand out in stark contrast to the rest of his skin but he's alive.

He's alive!

She wants to shout it from the rooftops! Wants to hug him tight and not let go! Wants to let all the sour feelings between them fade away and...

"She's his _EX_-wife, you know?" A different nurse walks in the room. Amber Tripp. She was a grade above Terri at McKinley. She always had a thing for Will.

Bitch!

The doctor looks at her sternly, "Is that true?"

"Well, yes, but we're...we were working on our problems until this happened. He still loves me, you know. That's why he didn't change his emergency contact and..."

"He probably just didn't get around to it." Amber folds her arms over her chest and looks at Will on the bed. Refuses to look at Terri. "I think she should leave, doctor."

The doctor looks between them before settling his eyes on Terri, "You can visit for a little while but I will not be sharing his medical information with you. Nurse, please try contacting his parents again."

"We've been trying to call since last night..." She cuts in, irritably.

"I'll wait til they arrive to discuss his condition." He leaves the room and Amber follows, giving Terri a filthy look as she goes.

Terri wants to scream but refrains from it. She has to be strong right now. She can't let her anxiety rule her anymore!

She approaches the bed, hand outstretched. She hesitates for a moment but then her hand finds his and she can't stop the flood of tears. Will - her Will, the fifteen-year-old boy with the big green eyes and shy smile is laying on the bed. The boy she danced with at prom, the man she gave her virginity to, the man she married - is laying on the bed.

Broken but alive.

She kisses his fingers, wipes her tears from his skin. Strokes his face. His skin is cold but soft beneath her fingers. She runs her hand up to his hair and pets it lightly. Tugs a little at his curls. She always loved his hair – it's still soft and thick like it was before...

She can't help the scream that rips from her throat when his hand shoots up and grabs her wrist. He's awake! She's going to be the first person he sees! He can love her again. They can...

He's squeezing her wrist so tightly that it hurts. She can feel the bones crunching together. "Will?!"

His eyes are open and they're his eyes but they're not. There is no recognition there – he doesn't know her. Doesn't know where he is. Doesn't know what he's doing.

He squeezes tighter - his arm is shaking with the effort. Grits his teeth beneath the oxygen mask. The monitors start to beep wildly and a handful of nurses rush into the room.

Terri is screaming. It hurts so badly that she can't breathe. She feels the bone crack beneath his fingers and the pain makes her go light-headed. The doctor rushes in and barks orders. A nurse is trying to pry his fingers open but it's no use. The doctor pushes a syringe full of liquid into the IV and only a few seconds go by before his mouth goes slack again and his eyes drift closed. His hand slides from her wrist and falls to the bed.

He's out again. The monitors slow down and it's as if he was never awake at all. Except an ugly bruise is already forming on Terri's arm and she can't move her hand. He's broken her wrist.

She can't look at him as a nurse leads her out of the room towards the emergency room.


	24. Chapter 24

**Non-violent but necessary chapter. **

**Not rated R (again). Yay. Thank you for all of your reviews and messages. I love you all.**

**School work is to blame for the unusually late update. :p I have more than half of the next four or so chapters written. Waiting for Quinn to be on the receiving end of Monster's wrath? That will be the next two basement chapters. Just a warning. :p**

*** … * … * … * … * … ***

Coach Sylvester doesn't come to school the next day. Normally, Finn wouldn't have even noticed her absence except he was expecting to be able to corner her and ask to visit Mr. Schue again. He skipped first period to go to the store – had bought razors, shaving cream, shampoo, deodorant, soap, and, on a whim, a Snickers bar and Robocop. He spent half an hour sniffing every bottle of shampoo and shaving cream on the shelf to determine which smelled the nicest. He had went in just to buy the razors but then his basket was full and he was spending two months worth of savings on toiletries.

He really hopes Mr. Schue likes everything. Really wants to go over immediately after school and give him the bag full of things but now those plans are ruined

Just like most things in his life lately.

The flu is slowly going around McKinley taking out scores of faculty and students. Upon entering the school, Finn learns that Sue Sylvester is the latest causality. Puck, Artie, and Mike are out too. Half the football team, a chunk of the Cheerios, basketball players, and assorted jocks have all dropped and are at home recuperating in bed. He's avoiding Rachel like the plague still. Can't stand Azimio and Karofsky even though they aren't openly hostile anymore.

This leaves Finn in the unique position of having no one to eat lunch with. He isn't normally one of _those_ guys - one of the losers who sit in the back table and keep their noses down to avoid the attention of the popular crowd but that's where he is today.

His day royally sucks.

He walks by the choir room – he's also been avoiding that like the plague. Feels himself choke up every time he walks by and the lights are out. He can't avoid it now – the only door to the outside that isn't locked during school hours is down that hallway. The janitors sneak out that door to smoke and always forget to lock it back up. His gain. He's already skipped first period, he might as well skip the last two.

He hears giggling coming from inside the room and slows down to glance inside. Tina, Quinn, Kurt, and Mercedes are eating lunch. Eating lunch...in the choir room...and laughing. His stomach lurches. He walks into the room slowly.

Has to walk by the empty swivel chair next to the piano and feels his eyes sting.

"Well, hello, Finn Hudson." Kurt's voice drifts up to his ears and he becomes acutely aware that everyone has stopped talking.

"Hey, guys." Finn shoves his hands in his pockets as far as they will go, "uh – eating lunch?"

"Looks like it." Kurt takes a bite of his sandwich, smiling a little smugly.

"Do you...do you do this every day? In here?" He glances up at the swivel chair and then walks past it so he can keep his back to it.

"Yeah. It's quiet and no one will disturb us." Mercedes answers, a slight edge to her voice.

"Yeah. I can see that it's quiet and all. Hi, Quinn." It's the first time he's spoken to her in person since she's been back.

She smiles slightly and tucks her blonde hair behind her ear. "Hi, Finn. Thank you for your call last night."

Kurt turns his head and gives her a "you're not getting away with not telling me about this later" look before turning his attention back to Finn. "Join us?"

"It's like a little reunion." Tina smiles gently and scoots closer to Quinn.

"Not even half of us..." Finn starts but then stops himself at the look on Quinn's face. He follows her eyes and knows she's looking at the empty chair. Can see the hurt and raw emotion on her face for only the briefest of moments before she hides it away. She and Mr. Schue are both hiding behind masks – Mr. Schue behind his empty stare and Quinn behind her perfect cheerleader. It makes Finn incredibly sad. "I'd really love to but I was actually on my way to ditch. Today is going kind of lousy."

"Well, you have a standing invitation." Quinn smiles brightly but it doesn't come close to reaching her eyes and the corners of her mouth are pinched as if she's in pain.

He smiles back at her, a genuine smile, and the fake smile slips from her face. She stares at him wide-eyed before looking down at her sandwich. "I'd really like that. See you guys tomorrow?"

Quinn nods and the rest smile at him as he turns away from them. He walks out of the room and heads for the exit but before he makes it he hears his name being called from down the hallway.

Shit.

Rachel runs towards him, coming to a stop between him and the door. Her bottom lip is trembling. He doesn't want to watch her cry right now. Doesn't want to deal with her at all.

"Finn, I really think we should talk. I'm very sorry about what happened at Mr. Schuester's apartment. If I knew he was so far gone mentally I wouldn't have suggested..."

"So far gone mentally? Do you hear yourself when you speak?" He's looking over her shoulder towards the exit. He would do just about anything to avoid this conversation.

"You know what I mean. I just really want to talk to you. I miss you. I don't like fighting and I..."

"I have to go, Rachel." He side steps her and walks the rest of the way to the door. He doesn't miss the hurt in her dark eyes as he passes her. "Call me later if you really want to talk about it."

And then he's out the door.

It's chilly out but Finn forgoes his usual shortcut home so that he can walk by Mr. Schue's apartment building. It adds an extra twenty minutes or so of walking to his journey but he's skipping anyway and has no place to be.

He walks slowly by the building trying to guess which windows belong to Mr. Schue – it's not a hard task because as he looks up, he sees a pair of Converse clad feet and part of a blanket hanging over the side of the fire escape. He never even entertained the idea that he'd get to see Mr. Schue after he found out Coach Sylvester wasn't coming to school that day. He internally debates whether or not he'd be bothering the man if he walked up the fire escape and gave him the things he bought for him.

Maybe Mr. Schue doesn't want to see him? Maybe he wants to be alone? Maybe he doesn't want a stupid teenaged boy hanging around bothering him?

Maybe he does? Maybe he's too afraid to say that he's lonely?

The thought of Mr. Schue sitting all alone in his apartment when he doesn't actually want to be alone is what spurs him forward.

* … * … * … * … *

Will is sitting on his fire escape. His fingers are numb and its been an hour at least since he could feel his nose or feet but the fresh air feels nice. He doesn't want to sit in his stuffy apartment and he's too wired to sleep right now. He has no place else to go so fire escape it is.

He hears the footsteps coming up the stairs and for a second he can feel his chest constrict but it's only a heartbeat before he can see Finn's head coming into view out of the corner of his eye. He sighs inwardly. He can't do this right now. He wants him to go away. Wants to be alone. Doesn't want Finn to see him like this. Doesn't want Finn to see him at all.

He's a monster. Finn deserves better.

He pulls his blanket more tightly around himself and turns his head slightly when Finn makes it to the top of the stairs.

_Go away._

He can't say it. He settles on chewing on his lip and staring out to the street below.

"Hey, I – uh – I was in the neighborhood. Well, really, I'm in the neighborhood because I was skipping and I sort of walked by and saw you sitting up here and uh...well, Coach Sylvester is sick today but I wanted to see you. So...yeah..." He slowly sits down next to Will, keeping a few inches of space between them. Will is thankful for that. "Isn't it kind of cold to be sitting out here?"

He hears him but ignores him. Stares down at his shoes. They're flying. Too bad the rest of him is attached too.

They sit like that for a long while. Hours perhaps. The sun is staring it's descent. Will stares down at his shoes and Finn casts glances at Will's face. He wants to tell him to stop. He doesn't like being stared at.

He doesn't.

He scratches at his chin. The facial hair is bordering on beard territory now and it's itchy. He would text his dad and ask him to buy him razors but he doubts either of his parents would bother with him at this point. He sees Finn's face light up, his fingers twitch on his backpack straps. He wonders what that means.

Finn opens his backpack and pulls out a plastic bag, "I...I...uh noticed yesterday that – well, I know that you, you usually shave everyday and you have the beard and all..." Will's head slowly turns so that he's looking at Finn and Finn has to swallow hard before he continues, "Well, so, I looked in your bathroom and you didn't have any razors so I went to the store this morning and...well, here." He drops the bag into Will's lap and then maneuvers so he can shove his hands in his pockets.

Will's eyes move from Finn's face to the bag sitting innocently in his lap and then back. Finn looks nervous, like he's about to choke on his tongue at any moment.

He wants to toss the bag to the street below. Wants to watch a passing car drive over it. He wants to show Finn the type of person that he really is so maybe he'll leave and save himself. He doesn't deserve the look of admiration on Finn's face. He wants to squish it.

He bites down hard on his lip and closes his eyes instead. Takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I...uh...I'm so stupid." He reaches for the bag but Will's hands are still on it holding it in place. His eyes open and then he's slowly pulling each item from the bag and looking at it carefully before setting it aside. He can't crush Finn. He knows that he's trying to help. Knows that he just wants his teacher back and for things to return to how they were _before. _

He can't be that guy but he can pretend, at least a little bit. He's good at pretending.

When he gets to the Snicker's bar, he rips the wrapper open, breaks the candy, and holds half out to Finn. The shocked look on his face as he takes the candy is almost funny and Will bites his lip to keep the smirk off of his own face.

They eat their candy in silence. Stare down at the street for the longest time.

"Do...do you want to watch the movie with me? I mean, I don't really want to go home yet because my mom probably knows by now that I ditched and all but if you, you don't want to, I could just...uh...go."

His face is starting to feel as though it's going to freeze off. He doesn't particularly want to watch some cheesy 80's robot movie but he'll humor Finn. More pretend.

He stands and stretches. He leans down and picks up the plastic bag and then he pulls himself through the window and back into his apartment. He can feel Finn's eyes on his back before he seemingly musters up the courage to follow.. He sits on the far end of the couch and puts the bag in front of him on the coffee table. He really should say thank you. He wants to say thank you.

He sucks his lip into his mouth and bites down until he tastes cooper. It's familiar. Safe.

Finn reaches over the coffee table and pulls the movie from the bag, "Do you want to watch?"

_No. Yes. Maybe._

Finn eyes him but since he didn't say 'no', he puts the movie in and hits play. He's never seen this movie before. He's not really into science fiction. He glances to Finn. He has a small smile on his face. Apparently he's a fan of robots.

The movie has only been playing for a couple of minutes when the first gun is fired. He jumps. He wasn't expecting this to be so violent. Another gun. Another shot. Blood.

_Everything is red._

_Becky's on the ground. He wants to scream out to her but he can't. Quinn is screaming. Becky's blood is on her hands. On her face. It's every where. He's drowning in it. Can't breathe..._

There are hands on his face and he blinks slowly to make the face come into focus. Finn. Finn and his apartment behind him and his couch and...he wills himself to breathe normally. Closes his eyes. Doesn't want Finn to see what's inside of him.

"Hey, I'm so sorry. I should have...God, I'm so stupid! I'm such a retard! I shouldn't have picked out something so...I'm sorry!"

Will keeps his eyes closed and takes a few deep, steadying breaths. Listens to Finn cry and apologize and it's too much. He can't hurt Finn. Can't hurt him like he's hurt everyone else. He can do this. He can pretend to be normal.

He opens his eyes again and looks past Finn. Singin' in the Rain is on again. Finn must have changed the DVD while he was..._out_. He tries to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. Finn seems to have gotten the message though because he's letting go of his face and moving back to the other side of the couch and sitting down restlessly.

The movie has only been playing for around twenty minutes when he hears Finn's stomach growl loudly. "Mr. Schue?"

Will turns his eyes and shakes his head slowly. He doesn't want to be called that. He doesn't want the respect that goes along with that name. He can try to pretend to be Will. He can't even contemplate being 'Mr. Schue'. Finn doesn't understand though. He stares at him for a moment, a puzzled look on his face, "Uh, could – I mean, I could go but I like the movie and everything so, could I make a sandwich?"

He bites his lip but nods, turning back to the TV. Someone might as well enjoy Sue's groceries.

Finn stands and walks to the kitchen. He's back quickly and holding two plates. He slides one in front of Will and keeps one for himself. "I, uh, I guess you like turkey because it's in your fridge so I uh, I made you a sandwich, Mr. Schue."

He shakes his head again, willing Finn to understand.

He doesn't.

"You don't like turkey? I could make something else..." He reaches out to grab the plate but Will puts his hand on it to stop him. Shakes his head again. "I have absolutely no idea..."

He can't help the sigh that slips out of his mouth. He takes a small bite of his sandwich to placate Finn. It has way too much mayonnaise on it. He wants to say thank you but he takes another bite instead. Finn gobbles up his own sandwich in about two minutes.

They sit in silence as the movie plays. Finn keeps glancing at him, trying and failing to be indiscreet.

The movie is more than half-over and his throat is dry. He stands and walks to the kitchen, Finn's eyes following him the entire way. He fills two glasses with the milk Sue bought. It's cold and it makes his lips burn less. He carries the glasses back to the living room and holds one out to Finn who makes the same shocked face as before. Will bites his lip again to hide the smirk.

He wonders idly if this counts as a routine.

Silence settles again.

Finn guzzles his milk, choking on it a little at the end. Will stares at him as he does it and Finn smiles wide, a milk mustache on his upper lip. Will turns his eyes away, back to the TV. Back to Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds. He gets absorbed in the movie and for a little while doesn't have to pretend to feel normal because he does.

But then the movie is over and Finn stands and shuts off the DVD and the moment is over. He expects Finn to leave now that he's put in his time with the village crazy. He doesn't.

"Do you like X-box?"

The question comes out of no where and he can't stop his eyebrows from knitting together in confusion. He looks up at Finn. He's smiling widely. "Because if you do, I could bring mine over tomorrow and we could play. I have a lot of awesome games. I could bring them and you can pick. It'll be fun."

He looks down again. Fun? He hasn't played a video game in years. Terri wouldn't let him. He wants to say 'no'. Wants to tell Finn not to come back but he looks up at his smile and his hopeful eyes and he _can't._ "Awesome, Mr. Schue, we'll..."

He shakes his head. Can't help it. Every time Finn says that name, his heart constricts.

"You don't want to play? You changed your mind? That's okay. I mean I'd really like..."

He clears his throat and bites his lip. He can't help the panicked look that flashes across his face for a moment. He scrunches his eyes shut.

"No, no, it's okay. I didn't mean..."

He holds up his right hand and makes a "W" with his fingers, willing Finn to understand but he just looks confused. Three fingers for "W". One for "I". Pointer and thumb twice for "L" "L". He signs his name again and again and finally Finn's face flashes comprehension.

"You want me to call you Will? Not Mr. Schue?"

He nods and drops his hand back to his lap. A big grin spreads across Finn's face and in another time, Will would have returned it but he can't. He just can't. "Will, then. Is that what you wanted to say earlier?"

Play normal. A normal person would answer.

Will bites down on his lip but nods slowly, not meeting Finn's eyes.

_A normal person would speak, asshole._

"You, uh, you don't have to do that, you know?" Finn motions to his own mouth and Will lets his lip drop from between his teeth. Ashamed. "It just – it looks painful and I would never try to make you speak if you don't want to. I really...I just...you were there so much for me last year, I just, I want you to know that I'm here for you now. If that's cool? Because I don't want it to be weird or anything. I know I'm young and..."

He rubs his chin and tries to pay attention to everything coming out of Finn's mouth but he's tired and there are too many words to focus. He feels Finn sit back down and he opens his eyes even though he doesn't remember closing them. Finn has turned on Some Like it Hot.

He likes this movie. He stares at the TV. Finn says something about Marilyn Monroe's boobs and he can't help the smirk that crawls its way on to his face because Finn _would _say something about her boobs. It's almost normal. Almost like before.

He closes his eyes for what feels like a second. When he opens them again the movie is over and the credits are rolling across the screen. He glances to the other end of the couch. Apparently Finn was tired because he's snoring lightly and there is drool pooling at the corner of his open mouth. His phone is vibrating on the coffee table. Will glances at it. Rachel Berry. He wonders if Finn is blowing off Rachel to spend time with him. He hopes not.

Will knows that he should wake Finn up. Send him home. It's the responsible thing to do. The right thing. He knows he shouldn't have let him over in the first place. He'll tarnish him. Ruin him.

He could call his name. Shake his shoulder. His hand hovers and then drops. His throat is dry. He can't do it. _Why can't he do it?_

Becky's face flashes through his mind. Her eyes are dead. He shuts his eyes tightly. Pushes the image away.

He throws his blanket on top of Finn and heads into his bedroom.

He doesn't want to be responsible. Doesn't want to do the right thing. He's tired – tired of not feeling anything. Tired of pushing everyone away.

It's too hard.

Maybe pretending will be easier. Pretending to be normal. Pretending he doesn't want to rip his own skin off. Pretending it's not the face of a monster staring back at him when he looks in the mirror.

His phone is blinking on his nightstand.

7:03 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: I'm sorry!

7:05 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: Will? Are you there?

He stares at the phone.

Everything is too hard.

Just pretend.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn is half-asleep when her phone vibrates on her dresser across the room. She tries to ignore it. It's probably Mercedes or Kurt making sure that she's going to show up at school the next day. They do that a lot. She's thankful to have friends who care so much about her but it's tiring sometimes.

Tiring to have to pretend. Tiring to look like she cares. Tiring to drag herself through each day with a fake smile plastered on her face.

Sometimes she just wants to hide away.

Sometimes she thinks about what it would be like to go to sleep and slip away. Close her eyes and not wake up again.

But then she thinks about her mom, her friends, _him, _and she feels ashamed for ever having those thoughts in the first place.

She falls back into a light, restless sleep. Hovers there for a long time.

The phone vibrates again. Text message. It's going to keep going off unless she silences it.

She's so tired. She needs to sleep or else she wouldn't even consider getting up.

The damn thing vibrates again. She wonders how long it has been going off. She closes her eyes and wills herself to sleep.

It vibrates again. She glances at her clock. 3:04 am. She has to be up for school in less than three hours.

Son of a bitch.

She groans as she sits up and forces her stiff legs out of bed. She pads across the room and picks up the offending device. She doesn't intend on reading the message, just silencing it and going back to bed but her eyes glance to the name of the sender and her heart feels like it stops. It physically hurts. Her breathing quickens. She has to clutch at her chest and bend at the waist to avoid falling over.

11:54 pm Message from Will Schuester: yes

She quickly types in a reply. Maybe he's still awake. Maybe he'll hear it and wake up.

3:05 am Message to Will Schuester: I'm sorry! I was sleeping! Please talk to me! I need you!

She waits. And waits. Her phone squeezed so tightly in her hand that it hurts her fingers.

Minutes tick by and then an hour and there is no response. She missed him. He answered her and she missed it. He's probably crushed. Probably thinks she doesn't care. Probably thinks that she's a needy bitch. She sinks to the floor, can't help the sob that escapes her lips.

She stays on the floor, her phone clutched to her chest. She's still sitting there when dawn starts to creep into her room. She pulls herself up, washes her face off, applies a generous amount of makeup – enough to hide the dark circles. Pulls on her sweatshirt and jeans and gathers her books. She looks like shit but can't care.

She feels hollow inside.

7:05 am Message to Will Schuester: Please


	25. Chapter 25

**Two updates in a row? I'm on a roll.**

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

**August**

Quinn wakes up hot and groggy. She feels drained – emotionally, physically, mentally. She wants to stay asleep but the sound of giggling pushes her up and out of bed. Will and Becky are sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the TV playing 'Miss Mary Mack'. It's an image she hasn't seen in a long time. Not since before the first time Monster brought Will upstairs. Becky smiles when she sees Quinn, "Hey, we didn't want to wake you up."

She can't help but notice how stiff Will's muscles get under his shirt. He's coiled. Ready to run. His voice holds a fake calmness, "Good morning. Or afternoon as it were."

He's deflecting. He hasn't done that in a while either. He's going to pretend that nothing happened last night. Maybe he'll say it was a dream or that she imagined it.

She certainly didn't imagine the taste of his mouth on her tongue.

Her anger flairs up but dies down quickly. If he wants to pretend, she will too.

"Good morning, guys. Or afternoon as it were." She mocks and his back goes even straighter. He still hasn't looked at her.

Becky giggles, completely missing the tension in the room. She thinks it's a game. "My mom never allows me to sleep past 9. You guys sleep a lot."

Will's ears move back slightly. She knows he's smiling. She smiles too before she slides down to the ground next to him. She leaves a little space between their legs but knows that he must be able to feel her body heat. He still doesn't look at her.

He and Becky continue their game. He's still terrible at it but Becky laughs every time he messes up. Quinn thinks maybe he's doing it on purpose. He ignores her but it's okay for now. She'll wait til Becky is sleeping and then she'll lay into him. She'll bring up everything that happened the night before. Won't let him run away again.

She studies his face – dark circles but the tear stains are gone. He probably hasn't slept much. Must have washed up during the night after she fell asleep. The lemon smell is gone and his clothes are different again. His own jeans and a white t-shirt that doesn't cover as much of his biceps as it should.

"I'm going to wash up." She smiles sweetly at Becky and the girl returns it. Will nods, his eyes firmly rooted on Becky. As she stands, she runs her finger along his arm and he jumps, messing up the game. It's certainly not intentional this time.

She moves to the sink, discarding the jacket over the back of the couch as she goes. She wets her hair and then strips. She doesn't have to worry about privacy. It's an unstated rule that isn't broken. If someone is in the "bathroom", the other two stay away.

She washes up – careful of the bruises. Shaves her legs with a shitty razor. Scrubs her hair with the shampoo and leaves it to air dry. Disgustedly pulls back on her dirty underwear but moves to the wardrobe to find a clean dress so she can wash her own. Instead she pulls on a white t-shirt and a pair of shorts that were probably meant for the boy that was supposed to be here. The boy that Monster killed. The shirt is too short and a sliver of flesh peeks out the bottom. The shorts are slightly too tight and hug her hips snugly.

Whatever.

She's tired of the damn dress.

She tosses the offending article in the sink and scrubs it roughly before hanging it to dry over the banister to the stairs. She wishes she had a mirror.

Across the room Will is teaching Becky how to talk about the weather in Spanish. It's good to see him smiling again, even if it doesn't reach his eyes. She joins them, sitting so that their legs are nearly touching again.

"You changed your dress." Becky pauses in her Spanish lesson, "I hope I'm pretty like you when I get older."

"Sweetheart, you're beautiful." She smiles kindly and means it. Will's head turns towards her but she's looking at Becky and misses the look on his face when he sees what she's wearing.

Damn.

They work through the lesson. Quinn helps. She aced Spanish last year. She tells herself that the reason for that has nothing to do with a school girl crush on the man sitting next to her. It was nothing serious. Nothing more than an admiration of his body as it moved under his clothes while he danced in Glee. A giggle as their eyes met when he twirled her around and held her cheeks gently in strong hands while rapping to some cheesy 90's song. A leering glance at his ass when she knew neither he nor Finn were looking.

She certainly didn't go to Rachel levels of insanity. Didn't make him dinner or clean his bathroom or show up to his house. Except she had. She had shown up and decided that he would be the father of her baby and she had hugged him tightly and said good-bye and...

Yeah, their relationship was levels of fucked up even before they were beat over the head and shoved into a glorified dungeon.

They hadn't spoken about it _before._ Hadn't spoken about the baby or the lies or the hurt she saw on his face after he found out he wasn't going to be a father or the weary way he carried himself for weeks after the divorce. She apologized about it _here._ But they still hadn't really discussed any of it.

She'll bring that up later too. Might as well get everything out in the open.

She is glad she slept late. It makes the day go by much faster. Will gets their soup and bread ready. It's a treat to have bread. Her stomach hasn't felt full in too long but it does after their meal. She's so happy to have solid food, she doesn't even consider that the carbs will make her fat.

They watch Jeopardy. It's the kid's addition and Becky gets most of the questions right. Will shouts out random incorrect answers just to get her to laugh and Becky is positively beaming by the time the show is over. She's smarter than a teacher! Quinn suspects that he feels badly that she got hit with the belt because he spoke so he's trying extra hard with her now. He blames himself for a lot of things that aren't his fault.

A character fault if there ever was one.

They watch America's Next Top Model. Becky would normally go to bed at 8:30 but the show is over and it's nine o'clock before she starts to wash up and brush her teeth. Will busies himself making the beds. He still hasn't really said more than two words at a time to her. Quinn knows he's stalling and doesn't want to be near her. He won't have anywhere to run when Becky is in bed.

Becky climbs across her mattress and under the covers. Will sings her Somewhere Over the Rainbow and when Quinn sits next to him, he scoots away an inch or two. It hurts but she lets it slide for now. She says a prayer with Becky, kisses her forehead, and moves to the couch. Will sits silently on the other end a few minutes later. It's awkward. Quinn stands and turns the TV back on and flips the channel to a rerun of Friends just so the noise will break through the tension.

She keeps her attention of the TV but occasionally turns her head to see if Becky has fallen asleep yet. It takes about half an hour before her breathing has evened out and she's still.

She slowly turns her head towards Will. She's going to try to keep her emotions in check. She's going to try to not get angry or hurt.

"We're going to talk about this." It comes out a little more demanding than she would have liked.

He doesn't answer her. Doesn't even look at her. He hunches over, making himself appear as small as possible. She rolls her eyes.

"Nope. Not going to work, buddy. I want to know what happened last night." She maneuvers herself so that she's sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him.

He flinches and then sighs, "Can we not do this?"

"Not a chance. You're not naive. You may pretend to be but I see through you. Your wife liked you better weak and stupid so that's what you pretended to be while you were married to her. She's gone now so give it up."

"You got me. That's exactly right. Poor fake, naive Will. Did it ever occur to you that I'm really just an idiot?" His voice is very low and she strains a bit to hear him over the TV.

"Never." He turns his head at the firmness in her voice and regards her with gentle eyes. She continues, "You know what I want. I haven't exactly hidden it. But you have been hands-off this entire time until last night."

"I...I had a momentary lapse in judgment given the circumstances. I am very, very sorry. It was inappropriate and wrong and..."

"Why is it inappropriate?" She folds her arms. Stares at the side of his face. He's turned away again. Staring at the TV but not really watching it.

"Because I'm your teacher and..." His voice is more firm now.

"Not here. You're Will. I'm Quinn. Who knows how long we'll be down here? Or if we'll ever leave?" She watches his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows hard.

"It doesn't matter. I'm twice your age."

"No you're not." She says resolutely. It's true. She's an old 17 – mature for her age in attitude and experience. Her hand goes unconsciously to her now flat stomach. He's a young 31 – naive and not yet jaded by life. There isn't really that much of a difference. She wants to tell him this but refrains. She isn't sure how he'll react. She tries something different. "Mr. Darcy."

He looks at her then. His eyebrows knit together in confusion and she chuckles. "Mr. Darcy? Pride and Prejudice? He was older than Elizabeth and that was love."

He looks away. "Yeah, well, when I own a stately mansion and your parents want to pay me a dowry every year, we can discuss it."

"Shut up. Don't do that." She's annoyed now but tries to push it away.

"What?" He looks genuinely confused.

"The deflecting thing. You're always doing that. If you don't want to do something or talk about something you change the subject or make a joke or apologize. Even if you haven't done anything wrong. Don't do that."

He stares at her for a second, "And if you don't get your way, you say something bitchy. I think we're even."

Her eyes go wide even though she knows that he's still trying to distract her away from the real reason they're having this discussion. She's never heard him swear before and by the way it catches on his tongue, she thinks he's probably not used to it either. She doesn't fall for the bait, "Not going to work."

He smiles slightly. A barely there smirk, "Sorry. Had to try."

"What happened last night?" She starts again.

"I told you..."

"You can't fit out a window, yeah, I heard you."

"We're not going to escape." He says slowly, still not looking at her.

"I think we both already knew that."

"Maybe."

"We can discuss escape plans later if you want, right now I want you to tell me why you broke down like that...why you kissed me."

"You kissed me." He flinches, uncomfortable.

"First, yes. You know I wanted to. It was your lips on mine the second time."

He fidgets, tugs on his earlobe, plays with a loose string on his shirt. Anything to avoid looking at her. "I did. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"You already said that. I don't want to keep going in circles." She keeps her voice firm. "I know what you went through that first time. I saw the bruises on your hips while you were sleeping."

He tenses, muscles coiled, ready to run. He stays sitting, "I don't want to talk about that."

"You don't have to but I assume that's also what happened last night." She whispers. She doesn't want to cause him pain but he can't keep everything bottled in. He'll break.

He turns his head towards the far wall and nods slowly. She's surprised he admitted it. To her. To himself. His voice is very low. "I can deal with that..."

"You shouldn't have to." Her own voice cracks.

He turns and looks at her then. Turns his entire body and pulls his right leg up on the couch so he can face her completely. "No, I...I...would rather...I mean, I don't want you or Becky to have to..."

"I get it. The white knight." She wants to reach out and grab his hands. She could, his hands are only a few inches away now. She doesn't.

"Something like that."

"Then what was different yesterday?" She reaches out then and grabs his hands. Can't keep away. He tries gently to pull back but she has a firm grip and he gives up quickly.

"I...he spoke to me. He sat next to me and pretended like we were buddies or something and...and he told me things." He looks down at their joined hands and swallows hard.

"What things?" She whispers, afraid that if she speaks too loudly, he'll stop talking all together. This is going better than she thought it would. She pictured raised voices and tears. That's how her parents deal with their issues.

"He...it was his birthday. His mother blew him off to visit his father and that's why he did those things to you and Becky."

"And you."

He nods slowly, still looking at their hands. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles and she shudders, her stomach feeling tight, "Yes. And me. And he told me about all the other people he did this do. What he did to them."

"What did he do?"

"I'm not going in to it."

His voice is firm. She doesn't push it. "What else?"

"The window. That's it. Everything just added up." He doesn't tell her that she's supposed to be dead. He won't tell her that.

She knows he isn't telling her everything but she doesn't push that either, "And why did you kiss me?"

"I...I was in a bad place. I was...I was just overwhelmed and you were there and I thought he had hurt you with the belt. I was...you were okay."

"That's it?"

"That's it." His thumb traces a circle on the back of her hand.

"I don't believe you. I think you like me and you're afraid." He snorts but she continues, "You're afraid of everything. Your terrible wife convinced you so long that you are weak, you believe it."

"You have me all figured out." He continues the circle. Turns the pattern into a figure eight. Still doesn't look up.

"Tell me you're not afraid."

"We're in a bomb shelter being terrorized by a mad man. Of course I'm afraid."

"Of me?"

"Of you most of all. You and Becky. If anything happened to you..."

"Not like that. You're afraid to admit your feelings for me. I see the way you blush when I walk by..."

"Half-naked." He groans. Looks up and then down again. Continues the pattern.

"It's warm down here." She laughs, lies. "I'm not asking you to jump my bones. I don't want that. I just want to be close to you. I think I might lo..."

He drops her hands, stands, "Don't say that. You don't even know me."

It's like a slap in the face and she's suddenly angry, "I don't know you? You think I haven't been listening to you the entire time we've been here? I know everything..."

"You know what I'm willing to..."

"Shut up!" She raises her hand to smack his face but he catches it, holds it steady.

"I'm sorry."

"Of course you are. You're sorry. Sorry and pathetic. Why can't you just admit that you like me too?! That you want me!?"

"Lower your voice."

He whispers it. She does as she's told, "You're afraid. Too afraid to admit what's between us. Too afraid to fight that freak..."

"Stop." He's still holding her wrist in his hand. His grip tightens slightly but is still gentle.

"If you aren't going to admit that you want me, I want to get out of here." He drops her hand, "Fight him!"

"We went through this already..." He turns away from her and her anger reaches boiling point. He's so frustrating!

"Are you just going to lay down and take it? Oh, I forgot! It's what you're good at now!"

He goes completely rigid and she instantly wishes she could take it back Wants to some how suck the words back into herself. Forget about the fight. Forget about the anger. His head turns slowly towards her. His eyes are huge and his mouth is open as if he wants to say something but the words won't come out. He snaps it shut and moves away abruptly, heading for the opposite end of the room.

"Will, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean..."

"I'm glad I know what you think of me now. What does it say about you? You love a stupid, scared man who is only good for a quick lay from the freak upstairs."

"Will..." He turns abruptly and stares her down, his eyes are dark and angry and...something else that she can't place. Her own are filled with tears that threaten to fall over.

"Do you want to know what he did, huh? Do you want the grizzly details about how I laid there and 'took it'? For you and Becky? So he wouldn't touch _you_. What do you want from me?" His voice is dangerously calm.

"Nothing. I don't want anything _from _you." Her voice breaks, "I just want_ you._"

The hardness of his jaw loosens a little and he opens his mouth to say something but then there is a noise on the top of the stairs and the tension in the room increases even more. He snaps his mouth shut and turns to stand between her and the stairs.

Monster is down the stairs quickly. The gun in his right hand, the belt in his left. He points the gun at Will but he's looking at Quinn, "You. Upstairs."

"What? No." Will says, his voice cracking in surprise.

"Did I ask you to argue? Shut up." He motions again for Quinn to move. She can't.

"No. I'll go." Will says, takes a step forward. Monster raises the gun higher, points it at Will's head. He steps back bumping into Quinn. She still can't move. "But...I'll go."

"No. Mom missed my birthday. She owes me a date. We're going to have a nice dinner and maybe a movie and a chat. It's going to be fun." He says it calmly, the gun still pointing at Will's head.

"No." His voice sounds panicked but she can't see his face. Monster is staring at him now. A mix of anger and _longing _on his face. Will apparently sees it too. His voice drops an octave. Quinn can feel him shaking where their bodies are connected. Or maybe it's her who is shaking. She can't be sure. "I...I can make it good for you. Take me. She's nothing. I'll do whatever you want me to."

"Next time. I'll take you up on that next time." He licks his lips and then trains the gun across the room so it's now pointing towards Becky who is asleep on the bed. "Mom and I are going to have a nice dinner."

"No." Quinn finds her voice. "I'll go." And she's terrified and panicking inside but her voice is firm. She can do this for Becky, for _him. _She sidesteps Will, breathes in his scent and runs her hand along his lower back as she moves away. She wants to keep the memories fresh in her mind.

"No. I..." He starts, his voice cracking. Monster stares at them impatiently.

"Will, he will hurt Becky. Let me go. Don't make the same mistakes I did." His wrist. Getting beat with the gun. The belt and Becky. Both incidents are still fresh in both their minds.

His eyes move from the gun to Monster and then settle on Quinn. His mouth is a tight line as he nods, only once. She turns to move up the stairs but he reaches out and grabs her hand, squeezing it before letting go.

He stares after her as she heads up the stairs. She can feel his eyes on her. She focuses on that instead of the feel of Monster's hand on her back.


	26. Chapter 26

**Haha. The basement cliffhanger remains hanging for another chapter. :) I'm sorry. Don't hate me. Thank you for all the kind words – I appreciate each and everyone of you who takes the time to write a review or send a message. Almost 200 reviews? Crazy.**

**What a long-ass chapter this is but I didn't want to break it up since everything happens on the same day. **

**Not rated R. Yay!**

*** … * … * … * … * … ***

When Finn wakes up, his body is stiff and it takes him a long moment to realize where he is. Mr. Schue's apartment. _Will's_ apartment. The couch is horrendously uncomfortable and he can't believe he actually fell asleep and _stayed _asleep on it. It's cold and he pulls the blanket more tightly around himself.

The blanket.

Will's blanket.

He must have covered him up last night. The thought spreads a warm shot of happiness throughout his chest because it's something that Will would have done _before._

The sun is streaming through the windows. It must be kind of late in the morning.

And shit. It's Friday. School must already be in session. He reaches to the coffee table and swipes up his phone, checking the time.

9:08 am.

He's fucked.

He ignores the fact that he has six missed calls from Rachel and three from his mom.

He stands and stretches. Folds the blanket and puts it on the back of the couch. He has to get to school quickly even though he knows people will probably look at him funny for wearing the same clothes two days in a row. He already skipped most of the day before. His mother is going to be pissed. He's sure that Figgins has probably already called and ratted him out.

His mother doesn't often get angry with him but he's sure he'll be grounded for this.

He moves through the apartment. He's already late to second period so he has a few minutes to spare before he has to leave in order to make it to third. He'll use the bathroom and check on Will before he goes.

Will is sleeping horizontally on his stomach across his bed, his socked feet hanging off the side, a blanket wrapped haphazardly around his middle as if he simply fell and passed out without bothering to right himself. He changed into sweats and a t-shirt and shaved before he went to bed and Finn is glad that he had the idea of buying the razors. Glad to be helpful.

With the beard gone and with his eyes closed, he looks almost normal. Almost like he was taken right out of Finn's memory. The only difference is the bruised mouth and slightly thinner face. Finn can look past that. Remember the man who brought him out to dinner after Quinn told him he was going to be a dad. The man who taught him how to dance and sing at the same time and how to tie a tie. The man who showed him that he didn't have to worry about what the jocks and popular crowd thought of him – he could live for what made him happy.

It's almost painful to look at him because Finn knows that man is just a memory and doesn't know if he's ever coming back.

He moves through the room and uses the bathroom. As he washes his hands, he smiles fondly at the bottle of shaving cream and razor that are sitting on the counter near the sink.

As he leaves, he notices Will's phone laying on the edge of the bed. It's blinking – missed call or text? He looks from the phone to the man. His eyes are twitching beneath his eyelids. He's dreaming. Probably not going to wake up anytime soon. Curiosity gets the best of him and he carefully picks up the phone. He wonders if Will has anyone to talk to. If he talks to anyone at all.

41 new text messages.

41? Finn frowns. He's a pretty popular guy himself and he never gets that many messages. He debates it but then clicks through the phone to the message screen.

41 new text messages and 41 of them are from Quinn.

Curiosity turns to something else. He isn't sure why but he _needs_ to read the messages. He can't not read the messages. He knows it's wrong - an invasion of privacy. He can't help it.

3:05: I'm sorry! I was sleeping! Please talk to me! I need you!

7:05: Please

7:51: Please! I'm sorry I missed your text!

8:07: Don't do this!

8:10: Are you sleeping?

8:11: Wake up, please

8:12: I can't do this without you

8:13: I really want to talk to you

8:15: I need to talk to you!

After 8:15, each text says the same word. Please. 'Please' 32 times, only a couple of minutes apart.

The phone vibrates in his hand and he jumps, surprised, nearly dropping it. His eyes dart to Will. He's still fast asleep.

Finn opens the text.

9:14 am: Please

He reflexively hits 'reply'. He isn't sure what's going on here but he knows it's something big and he knows that Quinn is hurting. He can't let that happen. Can't let her feel anymore pain than she has already.

9:14 am Message to Quinn Fabray: He's sleeping, Quinn.

9:14 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Who is this?

9:14 am Message to Quinn Fabray: Finn. He went to sleep late

9:15 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Why are you there? How is he? Tell me!

He's a bit taken aback by her question. He knows they must have become close while trapped together for two and a half months but something seems off about the messages. He has an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

9:15 am Message to Quinn Fabray: Meet me during lunch and we'll talk. I'm late and have to go.

9:15 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Okay. Choir room.

Finn erases his exchange with Quinn and places the phone back on the bed. Will will know that he read the texts that are no longer highlighted as 'new' but there is nothing he can do about that. He moves back through the apartment, grabs his jacket and back pack, and heads to school.

After he leaves, the phone continues to vibrate every few minutes with a new text.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Being late has its perks.

His mother called and reamed him out on his walk to the school. He told her he had been at Puck's house and just fell asleep. She grounded him for the weekend but didn't call him on his lie. He'll have to text Will and tell him that he can't come tonight to play X-box and they'll have to make it Monday instead. Finn doubts he will mind.

He arrives just in time to make it to third period history. It's a boring class but the teacher is scatter-brained and doesn't notice when the students are texting and not paying attention to the lesson. He sends Will the text. Doesn't get a reply back but then he wasn't expecting one.

After history, he shuffles down to the choir room for lunch. He would have made himself a sandwich but since he didn't go home last night, he'll just have to bum something off of Artie or Kurt. His stomach rumbles loudly. Kurt _and _Artie then...and maybe Mercedes too.

Quinn grabs his hand and pulls him into Will's office the moment he's through the door of the choir room. The rest of their friends stare quizzically at them but don't comment. She slams the door and shuts the shades, blocking everyone else out.

"How is he? Is he okay? He won't talk to me." Her voice sounds desperate. Pathetic. Her eyes are wild.

"He's okay, I think. He doesn't talk at all and he seems a little uh – out of it but, mostly, yeah, I think he's okay." He wants to reach out and smooth down her hair.

She nods. Wraps her arms around her middle. A habit she picked up from _him._ "And you? How are you?"

"I'm alright." It's not quite a lie.

She nods again. Looks him in the eye. Her clothes are too loose, her hair is wispy, her eyes are covered in too much makeup – no doubt to hide the dark circles underneath. She looks messy – not put together. It's disconcerting and his heart clenches a little because of it. "Why were you over there? At his apartment?"

"I went over with Coach Sylvester the other day to apologize for something and I was walking by yesterday and I...well, I missed him. I wanted to see how he was doing. I kind of just forced myself on him."

"What were you apologizing for?" She plays with a little Mexican flag on _his _desk. Doesn't look Finn in the eye. Her voice is calmer now.

"Uh, Rachel and I went over there a few weeks ago and it didn't go well. I just wanted to say sorry." He's not going to tell her the whole story. She doesn't need to hear it.

"Is that why you haven't been speaking to Rachel?" She bites her lip gently. Twirls the flag back and forth.

"You heard we weren't speaking?" His eyebrows shoot up. He didn't think she was interested in his life anymore.

"Of course. Kurt is a gossip monger." She smiles gently, "Are you going to try to work it out?"

"I...I don't know. I mean, if it was just that it would be one thing but everything that comes out of her mouth since...well...it was a rough summer. Not that you didn't have a rough...! I mean...I'm sorry!"

Foot meet mouth. His face quickly blushes a dark red that spreads down his neck.

She looks up then, the smile still on her face, softening her features, "It's okay. I know what you mean. And you know Rachel – if she's stressed or something isn't going right she becomes an obsessive little..."

"Drama whore?" She frowns and he continues, needing to explain himself, "It's just...while you were gone...you and Will, it's just, she seemed to want you back more for Glee and for herself than she did for _you._ Like she wanted you back so her career wouldn't be interrupted or something like that. That's what she would talk about, 'I'm putting up fliers with Quinn's and Mr. Schue's pictures. School is starting soon and Glee. What will we do without them?'. I just...it was wrong."

She thinks for a moment, dropping her eyes before looking back up, "Maybe she just wanted to return to normal and couldn't express it any other way? I don't think she meant it the way you took it. Although, I see why you took it that way."

He nods although he is still not convinced. A silence spreads and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind in order to fill it, "So, how are you?"

"I'm...okay." She says haltingly and it doesn't quite sound like a lie – more like a lie that she's convinced herself is true.

"The text messages?" He brokers the subject uneasily but it's the reason they're here. He wants to sit. His back is still stiff from sleeping on the couch but he refuses to sit in Will's chair. He doesn't feel worthy of it.

"He...he won't walk to me." She repeats her earlier comment, voice barely a whisper.

"41 text messages? Why would you send that many?"

She grimaces and wraps her arms back around her middle and he has to resist the urge to hug her. To protect her. "He texted me last night. It's been weeks. A month, maybe more, since he's spoken to me but he did last night and I missed it. I _missed _it."

"If he did it once, he'll do it again. You have to give him time. He seems...really messed up..."

She nods but doesn't elaborate. They stand in awkward silence. She hugs herself tightly, trying not to cry. He stands tall, staring at her with sad eyes. Something clicks inside of him. A realization.

"Do you...uh, do you love him?" He's afraid to know the answer. _Needs_ to know the answer.

Her eyes soften, "I love him. I know I shouldn't. I know that I wouldn't if...if we were never taken and never made to spend those months together but Finn, I love him. I love him so much it hurts."

"And he...does he love you back?'

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably not. If he did, I don't know if he still does." It's a whisper. A confession. To him. To herself.

"If he did, why wouldn't he still?"

"Because..."

_Too many mistakes. Black eyes. Red. Everything is red. A shot. Becky. Dead eyes. A tear, a kiss. Her hands are being held down, everything hurts, she can't breathe. Red, red, red. _

She closes her eyes and winces at the onslaught of memories. Opens them and it's Finn's concerned eyes staring back at her, "Because things happened. I...just can't. I can't talk about it now. Not yet."

He nods, not quite understanding but willing to move on. "Did you...um...did you guys, you and him, did you..."

"Did we what?" She knows where this is going. Cringes inwardly.

"Did you sleep with him?" He winces as he says it.

"Did I sleep with him? I'm not going to answer that." She bites her bottom lip.

"Why not? It's a simple yes or no." He says it a little louder than he meant to.

"It's none of your business."

"I think it is."

"Why? Because we used to date?" Her voice cracks a bit. She can't help it.

"Because I care about you. I care about him too. I just want to know..."

She interrupts, "The grizzly details? A lot of things happened. Mostly bad things. Nothing that happened had anything to do with...that. He wouldn't...we didn't...he didn't want to and wouldn't have..."

He narrows his eyes, "I'll take that as a 'no' then." There is a sense of relief in his voice. She stares at him, not giving anything up.

"Do you think...do you think we could be friends again? I miss you." She squeezes his hand a little.

"I would really like that, yeah." He smiles and it reaches his eyes. She smiles and it does not but he thinks that maybe one day, it could. "Maybe when things get easier, I could bring you over to his apartment with me. Like a sneak attack."

"I don't know if that would be the best idea but maybe." She smiles softly and he steps forward and pulls her into a hug, cradling her small body against his chest. She hugs him back tightly and when they pull back her green eyes are glassy.

She stares into his eyes for a long moment before clearing her throat and looking away. "We should...we should get back out there before they start listening at the door."

He smiles because he knows that Mercedes would and Kurt probably already is. He grabs her hand, squeezing gently, and pulls the door open just in time to see Kurt scrambling back to his seat.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Will wakes up sore but that doesn't make this different from any other day. The sun is high in the sky outside. He slept late. Fantastic. That means there is less time before he can go back to sleep. He pulls himself up and glances at the phone laying next to him, instantly remembering his mistake from the night before.

He texted her. How could he do that do her?

_Monster. Devil. That's how._

He grimaces. Turns off the phone without reading her replies. Unwittingly also missing the text from Finn. He uses the bathroom, stares at the bottle of shaving cream and the razor as he washes his face and hands and brushes his teeth. It clenches something tightly in his abdomen. Another mistake. He shouldn't have excepted those things. Should have pushed Finn away.

Finn.

Crap.

He finishes up and moves to the living room. The blanket is folded up and Finn is gone. He wonders whether or not he made it to school on time. Remembers that he's stopping by with his X-box later. He could ask him then...but he won't.

This is the worst part of the day. The loneliest part of the day. He should be at school teaching Spanish. He should be working on routines for Glee. Instead he sits in his silent apartment and stares at the wall. Or sits on the fire escape and stares at the street - at people driving by and getting on with their lives while he _can't_.

He misses the few weeks after he left the hospital where it was easy to slip into unconsciousness and stay there for most of the day. When he could shut off his mind and lose several hours at a time.

It's getting harder and harder to do that.

He runs his fingers along a dusty shelf.

He'll clean. That will take up a few hours. He grabs a bottle of Windex – the only chemical smell he can stand these days and sets to work. Emma would scold him for using the wrong cleaner.

He scolds himself for thinking about her.

He takes his time. By the time the dust is removed from everything, the windows are cleaned, the dishes are done and put away, the hall closet is organized, his bed is made, the bathroom scrubbed, and the floors are swept and mopped it's getting dark. It's nearly seven thirty. Finn isn't coming obviously. He doesn't know why that hurts so badly. He shouldn't have been looking forward to the company.

Doesn't deserve it.

But he's so damn lonely that it physically hurts. It's pathetic.

_He's pathetic._

He isn't tired. He can't sleep. His eyes move to the closed door of the craft room. He hasn't been in there since he's been back. He knows what's behind the door – the half-built crib and the stuffed bunny. The changing table and little pink dress that his..._not his..._baby was supposed to wear home from the hospital.

He should clean in there too. He needs to steel his resolve and just do it. He stares at the door.

His eyes move from the door to the liquor cabinet and zero in on a bottle of scotch that his father bought him for his wedding.

He needs to steel his resolve indeed.

_Pathetic._

* .. * … * … * … * … * … *

Sue is feeling much better after going through her detox regimen. Several cold baths to bring the fever down, specially made vitamin smoothies to boost her immune system, a handful of maybe-not-so-legal cold and flu pills that she keeps in her nightstand for just such occasions, and she's good as new.

She decides to take one more day off of school to catch up on paperwork that she's missed over the past few days. It takes nearly all day but she feels accomplished and much less stressed afterward.

She has the entire weekend free so when the clock rolls around to 8:30 pm, she doesn't even think twice about heading out to check on Schuester. It's funny how the biggest thorn in her side the previous school year has become one of her biggest projects. She wants him better and not just so she can destroy him while he's at his strongest. She genuinely cares about his well being. At first it was just because she wanted him well so he could help Quinn. Then it was because he seemed so alone - the job of helping him fell to her because there was no one else to do it. He won't let anyone close. She had to force herself on him with her key and her temper. That's just her nature.

It's something more now. Maybe something maternal?

She's never had the feeling before so she doesn't know.

She'll make him a quick dinner and they can watch a movie. Not a musical. After vomiting for twenty four straight hours, no. She can't stomach the thought. Fuck musicals.

She walks up to the second floor. Some asshole has their music blasting. The building isn't that fancy but it certainly doesn't give off a 'Friday night party vibe'. As she gets to his door, she realizes where the music is coming from and sighs.

She uses her key, pushes open the door, and closes it behind her. The stereo is so loud it almost hurts her ears. Someone is going to call the cops. As she walks by, she turns down the volume half-way. It's still loud enough to hear throughout the apartment but not in the hallway outside.

And then she realizes with a start, that he's singing. She hasn't heard him sing since...since the prior school year. Maybe that disastrous song he used to fake seduce her or maybe there was one other time? She can't remember right now. Not with his voice wafting through her head.

He's in the second bedroom. She pushes the door open. He's underneath a crib with a screwdriver pulling pieces off and tossing them haphazardly across the room. A changing table lays in pieces across the room. He's singing "Paint it Black" on key but something is off...

"William?" She says it loudly enough for him to hear. He startles, smacks his head on the underside of the crib as he sits up.

He rubs his forehead as he looks at her and then he's standing, a giant grin on his face, "Sue! I missed you!" He trips over a stray crib piece as he moves towards her. Pulls her into a tight hug...

What the fuck?

But then she smells the unmistakable odor of liquor and she gets it. "William, what the hell are you doing?"

He lets her go but keeps his hand on her shoulder while gesturing around the room with the other, "Now, you see here. I was cleaning because of the...the dust bunnies..." He giggles. His voice is scratchy from disuse. "And then I had this room left and I had to take down the crib because...because..." He moves and places both hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eye, "because there was never any baby."

He giggles again but behind the drunken haze there is something in his eyes that makes her wince.

"Where is the liquor, William?" She's going to put an end to this. She doesn't want him sullen, silent, and hurting but this...this isn't right either.

"Are you going to drink with me too!?" He hugs her again. Lets go and moves away, swiping up a large bottle of scotch from the floor – a third of it missing. "I called my mom and she said she'd come over for a drink! My mom...my mom likes to drink." He raises the bottle and takes a swig, wincing as it burns its way past his bruised lips and down his throat. "And she hasn't been over in..." He rolls his eyes up in thought and huffs, the smell of his breath making Sue cringe, "I don't even know...like years or something..."

He trails off, clearly forgetting what he was talking about in his stupor. He sits back on the ground and picks up the screwdriver. "Did you turn down my radio? That's...that was...you tricky girl!"

"William..." She trails off. She has no idea what to say.

"Blue jean, baby. L.A. Lady. She married a music man!" He sings loud and clear and if she pretends, it's her curly-haired nemesis on the ground singing, not the shell that returned.

She leaves the room, muffling his boisterous singing behind the door. She'll wait for his mother. She's never spoken to the woman but she did see her at that Acafella thing. Drunk and hanging over Josh Groban. She wonders if it's a regular occurrence.

She doesn't have to wait long. The banging of crib parts and the singing are still wafting from the other room when the door bell rings. She stands to open the door at the same time Will pokes his head out from the bedroom, the bottle of booze firmly in his hand. "That's my mom!" He bounds to the door, all drunken happiness and energy. He swings open the door and his mother is standing there with a puzzled look on her face. A bottle of scotch tucked into the crook of her elbow. Sue takes the moment to turn off the radio.

"Look, it's my mom! And she brought more scotch!" He takes the proffered bottle and sets it on the coffee table as she moves into the apartment and shuts the door behind her. He doesn't hug her like he hugged Sue.

"I see that." Sue wants to shake the woman for being an idiot.

"Will, what's going on? Are you feeling better?" His mother is sober, surprisingly. She burps. Maybe not sober but not completely hammered either.

"Oh, I'm feeling great!" He giggles and then repeats the word in his best Tony the Tiger impression, "GRRRRR-reat!"

"He's drunk." Sue says, taking a small reflexive step towards him without meaning to.

"I can see that." She snaps, taking a long pull from a flask in her purse. Will raises up his bottle in cheers and takes a swig - some of the amber liquid sloshing over the side. He giggles again.

"Your traumatized son is drunk." Sue says more firmly, willing this woman mentally to do something. Anything.

"Whatever gets him through the day," It's all she says. Sue stares at her in horror.

Will laughs and takes another drink. "I think I found it. This...this here," he holds the bottle up again, "this is what I needed all a long."

"William, put it down." Sue needs to put an end to this. It isn't right.

"What? No." He laughs again but there is something else there. Something in his eyes that Sue can't quite explain, "My mom wants to have a drink with me. Right, mom?"

"Will, maybe you should stop." His mom looks uncomfortable, like she'd rather be anywhere else.

"Maybe I should...what? I thought you'd want..." He cuts himself off, brow furrowing. He takes another sip of his drink.

"I don't want this." She gestures around the room, takes a pull from her flask. Burps. She's a walking cliché.

"What? I have wine too. I could..." He starts to walk towards the liquor cabinet but she puts her hands up and he stops.

"No. I don't want this." She gestures between them, "It's too hard. Maybe when you're feeling better..."

"But I feel fine." It's almost, not quite, a whine. A longing.

"Well, then maybe when I feel fine..." She mutters. She raises her hand to snatch the bottle away from him and he flinches back slightly, reflexively, clutching it to his chest. And that's when Sue sees it. That flinch isn't the reaction of a traumatized man, it's the reaction of a little boy who was smacked around one too many times by a drunk mother. A little boy looking for acceptance and not finding it again.

"Okay." She sets her resolve, "Okay. You need to leave."

His mom stares at her for a moment before laughing, "Who the hell are you lady? This is my son! He invited me!"

"Yeah, where were you all these weeks then?" She snarls. This woman is quickly grating on her last nerve.

"I was...I tried. He's stubborn. Always was." She mutters again and takes another drink. Will stares between them wide-eyed but says nothing. "You think it's easy? I never wanted this. I know who you are and I envy you. Not stuck with some kid or husband and you can do what you want. Those clips on the news. Sue's Corner. That's what I should have been."

Will takes another drink. Sue can see that he's heard this before. His mother confessing in a drunken state that she never wanted him. He winces slightly but there is hardly a reaction.

"Okay, go. When he decides he wants to see you again, you can come back." Sue points towards the door.

"But..." His voice is small and his mother cuts him off.

She narrows her eyes and takes another drink, "Fine. I don't need this shit. I don't need your shit." She points at Will and he takes a small step back.

"I...I just wanted you to have a drink with me..." He drops his eyes and Sue wants to smack the woman hard.

"Maybe when your shit isn't so fucked up. This is just like the time in middle school when you came home crying..."

He's eyes scrunch up, "When Grandpa died?"

"You moped for days. Or when Terri told you about the baby not being real. God, I would have been so happy if I were you." She takes another swig, "Lucky bastard."

Sue moves forward quickly and pushes the startled woman out the door, "Come back and I'll call the cops and tell them you're driving drunk." She slams the door and turns slowly. The room is deathly silent and some how she misses his drunk singing.

"William..."

"Something bad always happens when I speak." He whispers, words slurred, and takes another swig and then she can't help it. She's moving forward and taking the bottle from him and wrapping her arms around his middle. She isn't the hugging type but she'll make an exception right now.

He backs up quickly, pulling away from her, "It's fine. It's not like..." He bites his lip, retreating into the familiar.

"It's not like she hasn't said it before." She finishes, "I don't want you to drink anymore. I'll have you committed to a rehab facility." He nods, not sure if she's joking. She's not. He puts the bottle down next to the full one on the table. "I'll make dinner."

She forces him to sit at the kitchen table and drink glass after glass of water as she makes grilled cheese sandwiches. A child's comfort food. They eat in silence. He keeps his eyes on his plate. Fiddles with the crust of the sandwich but eventually eats all of it.

"Okay. We'll watch a movie and then you can go to bed." He nods and she follows him to the living room. She picks out White Christmas because it's safe and happy – momentarily forgetting her promise to herself about no musicals. She glances at his face from time to time. He doesn't look safe or happy. Downright miserable is more like it. She wishes he could get his happiness back without a liquor store coursing through his veins.

The movie is almost over and he's sobered up enough to feel ashamed. Sue notices him glancing at her from time to time before he stands and heads for his bedroom. She gives him a couple of minutes before following.

He comes out of the bathroom, dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt now. He lays down on his bed and turns away from her. She gingerly sits next to him, places her hand on his shoulder.

"You can leave." He says quietly, hardly audible.

"Not yet, buddy." She knows he's mostly sober now and doesn't want to scare him off of talking. She keeps her tone passive even though she's still angry at that woman for doing this.

"Everyone leaves. Nobody wants me." It's less than a whisper. A confession muttered on a breath. And she knows he's not just speaking about his mother but the world as a whole. Whether it's true or not, he thinks it is. It breaks her heart.

"Listen, William. Your mother is an alcoholic and also possibly insane. I suspect your father is an enabler. That doesn't mean that you aren't wanted..."

"She never wanted me."

"I don't have children, William. Never wanted them but if I did, I'd be very proud if my son turned out like you. "

He's quiet for a long time. She keeps her hand firm on his shoulder. When he finally speaks, his voice cracks and she can tell that he's trying very hard not to cry. "Don't go? Just for tonight?"

She borrows a pair of sweat pants out of his dresser and changes in the bathroom. They're almost the same height and they fit surprisingly well. She lays behind him and reaches out to place her hand on his back. He lets out a shaky breath and then stills. His breathing evens out a couple of minutes later.

She's awake most of the night listening to his even breathing.


	27. Chapter 27

**Yeahhhh...rated R. **

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

**August**

In all her life, Quinn has never been more afraid than she is in this moment. Not when she found out she was pregnant, not when Finn found out she was lying, not even when she was giving birth to her daughter and felt like her body was being ripped in two. Her heart feels as though it's going to beat out of her chest. Her entire body is shaking in fear and she can't do anything to stop it.

As soon as she reaches the top of the stairs, Monster pushes her gently through the door and slams it shut behind them. She stands rooted in place as Monster moves past her and towards another flight of stairs, "Stay here for a minute." His voice is quiet but holds a promise of...something.

Most likely something awful.

And then he's gone up the stairs and behind another door.

Her eyes dart around the room. It's another basement and then she realizes what Will already knows. They're being kept in some sort of panic room. She can't hear anything from downstairs.

It's soundproof. No one to hear them scream. No one to rescue them.

No escape.

She quickly brushes at her eyes. Rubbing away the tears that threaten to spill.

The room smells like bleach but there is a hint of lemon cleaner. The floor is damp. He must have just cleaned up.

Her eyes go to a small window at the top of the wall. The memory of Will's voice runs through her mind.

_I can't fit out the window._

This is where he was keeping Will. She turns, eyes the bloody mattress that is still on the ground. Her stomach constricts painfully and she dry heaves.

This is where he raped Will. That is Will's blood.

This is where he is probably going to rape her too.

She swipes at her eyes again. Her hands are shaking harder now.

Monster is back. Down the stairs and standing in front of her. He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners. She wants to spit in his face but doesn't. It will only make things worse. He reaches out and takes her shaking hand and yanks her forward, towards the stairs.

She didn't expect that.

"We're going to have the best dinner but first you need a bath! You always said that it's very important to be clean for our dates!" His voice is excited, not malicious. The happy tone makes her more nervous because she doesn't know how to react to it.

He pulls her up the stairs by the hand and she doesn't resist. He closes the door behind her as soon as she's through. The walls are made out of thick dark logs and she can just barely make out a cluster of trees through a window to her right. They're obviously in some sort of cabin. It looks abandoned or maybe just severely neglected. She can only see a few rooms – kitchen, living room, a closed door that might be a bedroom. There is musty, old furniture – a kitchen table and a few couches that look straight out of the 80's. Everything is covered in dust.

She vaguely wonders if he lives here or if he just shows up to terrorize them during his free time.

If she can find out, maybe they could plan their escape.

He pulls her down a tight hallway and into a bathroom. She doesn't see a toothbrush or razor or anything that would indicate that he's staying here but then she looks at his scruffy face and remembers his dirty teeth and well, maybe he's just a slob.

"Take your clothes off, Mom." He whispers it in her ear and she freezes. Unable to move, unable to breathe. This is it.

He's going to hurt her.

Rape her.

When she doesn't move for a moment. He grabs her t-shirt in strong hands and pulls, ripping the material down the middle and leaving her exposed. Her arms automatically go up to cover her body from his prying eyes. "You shouldn't be wearing shirts and shorts. Mom wears dresses. Mom is a classy lady." She sobs loudly, can't help it, and his eyes soften. "It's just a bath. Relax."

His hands go to the button on the front of her shorts and she smacks him away. "Don't."

"Don't? Oh, I'm sorry. Did you think you were in the position to make demands?!" He roars in her face and then visibly calms down. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't yell at you, Mommy. I've been bad. I'll try harder."

She sobs again. She wants to run away. She can't see the gun or the knife any where and that knowledge makes her angry. He thinks he can control her with his bare hands.

_Because he can._

He grabs her by the waist band of the shorts and forcefully pulls them down her hips without unbuttoning them. The fabric scrapes her skin and it stings so much that it takes a second to realize that he's yanked her underwear down with the shorts. She screams then and his hand is instantly covering her mouth.

"If you scream again, I will disembowel him while you watch. I will rip out his beating heart and force it down your throat." He whispers softly in her ear and she knows he's telling the truth. She sobs painfully against his hand and nods.

She can't let _him _die.

She can do this.

He unclasps her bra and then she's standing before him naked and shaking. He eyes her wolfishly. "Now, Mom, get in the tub."

She doesn't move. Can't move. She keeps her arms in front of herself. Eyes closed. She can't look at him. Silence stretches and then he's lifting her off the ground and tossing her in a heap to the bottom of the tub. She lands painfully on her hip but stays there. It's easier to cover her body from his heated gaze while she's on the ground.

With her eyes closed she gets no warning when he turns on the water until the freezing liquid is beating down on her from above. She gasps and tries to move away but there is no where to go and then his hands are on her arms yanking her up until she's standing. "Open your eyes." She doesn't and then there is a hard smack across her face. "Honestly, Dad was easier than you and he has muscles. You're weak. You shouldn't fight me. Open you eyes."

And she does because he is right. She _is _weak.

He's standing outside the tub with a bar of soap in his hand. "I want you to watch while I clean you. You always liked to watch when you used to make me do this, Mom."

And then he's reaching out and running the soap across her stomach, down her hip, down her leg, and back up. His hand is everywhere, burning her skin despite the cold water. She feels light-headed – like she's going to vomit or pass out. He must notice her state because he pinches her stomach hard, bringing her back to reality, "Don't."

His hand travels across her breasts with the soap and she sobs. Can't help it. He's the second person to touch her like this – and the first is just a hazy, drunken memory. He smacks her across the face again. "Stop it. You're making it hard to pretend."

He spins her around. Scrubs her back and her shoulders. Forces her head under the water. She hears the pop of a shampoo bottle and then he's carding his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. The shampoo is the same as the stuff they have downstairs. That smell is forever burned into her memory.

The shampoo rinses down the drain and then he spins her again. Runs the soap down her chest and stomach and then his hand is _there _and she cries out again. His hand is gone a moment later and traveling down her leg and back up. He allows his hand to linger for a moment before dragging it back upwards. She sobs loudly, shakes uncontrollably. His hand feels like acid, burning her skin.

And then it's gone and he's forcing her fully under the water to rinse her off.

"All clean." He sing-songs. She gags then. Can't shake the feel of his fingers. He smacks her hard again. "Stop it. It was just a shower."

And it is true except _not_ because she feels so, so _violated._

"My turn." She looks away as he strips off his clothes and steps into the tub with her. She moves as far away as she can get and he doesn't stop her as he allows the water to drench his skin. "Now pick up the soap."

She doesn't. She can't. She stays in the corner, trying irrationally to hide away from him. He flinches towards her and laughs when she cowers away. "Pick it up or I'll scalp the little girl." His eyes light up for a second, "That one will be new. I've never done that before but I'd like to try..."

She picks up the soap and he grins wildly at her.

"Now wash me. It's very important that we're both clean for our date." She reaches out with a shaking hand and runs the soap over his scarred back. He laughs, "Remember when Dad gave those to me? Now we match! I was very excited to let him feel what the belt felt like. I think he probably liked it."

She shudders and moves the soap to his shoulders and down his arms. If she were bigger, stronger, she could fight him. Take advantage of the fact that he's not armed. Save Becky and Will.

She can't do it. He'll overpower her easily. She's pathetic.

She washes him as quickly as possible. Runs the soap over every part of him because she doesn't want him to hit her again. She turns around and she scrubs his chest, his arms. Doesn't look at his face. Doesn't want to see the leer in his eye. She moves to put down the soap but his hand stops her, "No. You aren't done."

He wants her to touch his...

She's never touched a man like that. She freezes and then he's forcing her hand downward until the soap is against his length. He moves her hand up and down and then forces the soap out of it. Grips her hand tightly in his own and forces it to close around him. She can't cry out. She's too shocked. He uses her hand and it only take a moment before he's grunting and shooting sticky liquid over her hip and fingers.

She sobs once more. Feels dirty and humiliated despite the fact that she smells like soap and is standing under a stream of water. He smacks her hard and her knees give out. He rinses off quickly and hops out of the tub. He dries off with a towel that was laying on the sink and then pulls his clothes back on.

She remains sitting under the freezing water.

A phone rings from another room and his head snaps to the side at the sound of it.

"I'll be right back." He laughs as if something - everything is funny - as if she doesn't want to turn into a puddle and be sucked down the drain with the rest of the dirty water.

And then he's back and he shuts off the water and forces her to stand. He tosses her a towel and she wraps it around herself. Relieved to be hidden away from his evil stare. He drops a dress, new underwear, sandals, and a new bra on the ground at her feet. "Put them on. I know how much you like yellow, Mom."

She forces herself to drop the towel and pulls the clothes on as quickly as possible. Everything fits surprisingly well and she wonders how he knew what size clothing she wears. He's behind her with a hairbrush that she didn't see before and he roughly brushes her hair straight.

"There. Now we can have dinner. That was work calling though so we have to cut it short. No movie tonight but don't worry, we'll save it for next time.." He smiles, reaches for her hand, and pulls her forward again. Drags her back to the kitchen and forces her to sit. Places a big plate of spaghetti in front of her and then sits next to her. His leg is touching hers for hip to knee and she wants to push him away but doesn't.

Vaguely she understands that she's in shock. She can't process what is happening and so she doesn't even try.

He picks up the fork, shovels a mouthful of spaghetti on to it and holds it in front of her mouth. She looks from it to him and back again. He smacks his other hand on the table, "Eat!"

She opens her mouth and he sticks in the fork. He's feeding her like a child. The added humiliation of the act gnaws on her insides. He counts to ten while she chews and then repeats the process.

Bite. Count to ten. Swallow. Bite.

Her stomach begins to ache after only a few minutes – protests being full of solids after having nothing but bread, soup, and crackers for a month.

He stares at her the entire time he is feeding her. Watches her chew and swallow. She doesn't see him blink at all. There is no escape from his leering glare.

The plate is more than half empty and she feels as though she's going to vomit from the pressure in her stomach when he finally glances at the clock and decides that dinner is over. He stands, pulling her up with him. He drags her back towards the basement. Back down the stairs. Back to the door that leads down to _him._

He pushes her roughly against the door and holds her there with his hip. He rubs his fingers along her jaw, staring down at her, "Pathetic and too short. I really wish it had been the taller one here. I guess I can try to pretend though. I don't want to have to replace you so soon." She tries to but can't follow his train of thought. He grins again, "This was just a taste of what's to come. If you ignore my birthday again, I'll gut you, bitch!" He punches her hard in the stomach and she vomits the not-yet-digested pasta over the ground – some of it splashing on her feet and up her ankles. He laughs as he unlocks the door and forces her through, shutting it tightly behind her.

And then she's alone. And she can't focus on anything except finding _him._ She needs _him. _

There is vomit on her mouth, in her hair, on her sandals. She doesn't care.

She stumbles down the stairs slowly. Her hip aches, her face stings, and her stomach feels as though it's being twisted in knots. She's petrified, shaking with barely suppressed terror. She isn't sure what she's afraid of but she's terrified all the same. Maybe he'll know that Monster touched her..._how _he touched her. Maybe he'll treat her differently. Maybe he won't want anything to do with her. Maybe he'll still be mad about what she said to him before she was dragged upstairs. There are way too many possibilities.

She tries to push all the bad thoughts away. _He'll_ _make it better._

She makes it to the bottom of the stairs and it's so dark it takes her eyes a moment to adjust – the only light comes from whatever dark movie is playing on the TV. It's still night time. She wasn't up there for more than a couple of hours but it feels as though she's been gone for an eternity. When her eyes finally do adjust, she notices _him. _ He's sitting a few feet away from the foot of the stairs - almost in the exact spot they sat together the first night they were here. Even fast asleep she can see worry lines around his eyes.

She kneels down and squeezes herself into the space between his legs. Reaches up to nudge his shoulder, "Will?" She's ashamed of the way her voice cracks.

His eyes flutter open slowly but a brief second later, they adjust and he sees her. His hands shoot up to cup her face. He leans forward and for a heartbeat she thinks that he's going to kiss her but then his face is buried in her hair and he's inhaling deeply - smelling her. It's confusing but then she knows – he's looking for the scent of the lemon cleanser. He wants to know if Monster...

"He didn't rape me." She says firmly and it's true even if it doesn't feel true. He crushes her against his chest in a tight hug and all of her earlier fears about how he will treat her evaporate.

"I thought...God, Quinn." The way he says her name, as if it's something fragile and precious causes her stomach to flutter and she squeezes him in return. "Did he...are you hurt?" He pushes her back and looks at her face critically. Her cheek feels bruised where he smacked it again and again and it must be because Will ghosts his fingers over the exact spot it hurts. "He hit you."

She sniffles and pulls back from his hands so that she can lean forward and lay her head against his chest. His steady heartbeat is reassuring. "He...he touched me. He gave me a bath and made me do the same for him. And he made me eat dinner..." She sobs against his shirt and his arms tighten around her. He adjusts himself so he can pull her so that she's sitting across his lap, cradled against his chest. It sounds so stupid even to her own ears. He was whipped by a belt and raped and she was given a shower and fed dinner. How can she complain? But then she remembers the feel of his fingers on her skin and his eyes on her body and she feels so _dirty. _"I...he didn't rape me. His hands were...and he made me..."

"I'm so sorry, Quinn. I'm sorry you had to go through that..." His voice breaks and neither of them can continue talking for a long while.

Minutes pass, she looks up at him through wet eyes and waits until he meets her gaze before speaking, "I'm sorry for starting that fight. For everything I said to you. I was so mean and stupid."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion, unable to follow the change in conversation for a moment. He shushes her, kisses her forehead. "Forget it. We both said things we regret. I'm sorry too. Can I...do you need anything? Can I do anything for you?"

"I just want you to hold me. I just want to be close to you." She whispers against his chest and he obliges. They sit quietly for a long time. He traces circles on the skin of her upper arm and she plays with a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. It's peaceful and if she closes her eyes and focuses hard enough on the thump of his heart, she can almost forget the feel of that freaks fingers on her body.

Almost...but not quite...

"He made me touch his..."

He startles at the sound of her voice and she wonders if he was lost in thought or falling asleep but doesn't ask. His voice is very quiet but there is an edge to it. "He made you _what_?"

"He made me touch his...he made me jerk him off in the shower." She can't say it so she says what Puck would have said. It's easier to be crass sometimes. She idly traces her fingers along the indents of his ab muscles as she says it. Focuses on that instead of the memory.

He moves then. His hands are on her shoulders pushing her back so he can look at her face. "Quinn, did he touch you? Tell me the truth." His eyes are desperate and locked on her own.

"No, no...he gave me a bath and his hands were _everywhere _but he didn't...he didn't..." It's almost the truth. She sobs and leans forward, buries her face in his neck and cries. They sat much like this last night except it was his face buried in her neck. The memory makes her cry harder.

"Did he hit you anywhere else?" His voice is hard now and it rumbles against her ear despite his quiet tone.

She's quiet for a long while, trying to calm her sobs. His hand rubs circles on her back. "He smacked my face a couple of times and he punched me in the stomach before I came back and I...I threw up. I'm covered in puke." She buries her face in her hands – feels foolish and embarrassed.

He nods against her hair and then stands, lifting her up in his arms as he goes. Snuggled against his chest, she feels safe, protected. He carries her to their bathroom and sits her down on the closed toilet. He wets a towel and rubs soap along the corner of it, kneels in front of her, and gently washes her face. After he's done, and the dried vomit is all gone, her face feels clean again.

Their eyes link and he gives her a tight smile. He stands, drops the towel under the sink so he can wash it later and wets another with more soap and water. He returns to her and runs the towel down both her arms from shoulder to fingertips. He repeats the process with her legs and feet – runs a clean towel down both her legs from knee to toes. He tosses the towel into the pile under the sink, takes her shoes off, and tosses those into the pile too. His voice is very quiet, "Is that a little better?"

She nods because she's afraid if she speaks, she'll cry again. He's so gentle that when she squeezes her eyes shut, it's his fingers she feels on her body and not Monster's. At least for now.

"Can I do anything else, Quinn? I don't...I know I can't take away what he did but I...if I can help, I will. Do you want some crackers? Water? Do you want to go to sleep?"

She shakes her head. She can't sleep now. If she closes her eyes she sees Monster staring back at her. _Leering_ at her. She can't eat. Her stomach still aches.

"Do you want to sit on the couch? I'm sure there is some crappy show on late, late night TV that you can watch. You love reruns." He smiles slightly, trying to ease her tension.

She nods because she knows he wants to help her. "Just let me brush my teeth first."

They stand and he waits for her to finish. He holds out his hand and she takes it and follows him to the couch. His skin is very hot against hers and she focuses on that. She focuses on how his touch makes her forget Monster's.

He lets go of her hand to change the TV station and she feels naked. Exposed. Alone.

"Will?" Her voice is stronger than she thought it would be.

He turns and regards her with kind eyes...so much unlike Monster's dark, penetrating stare.

"I need you..."

He's at her side in a second. His hand back in hers. "What do you need?"

"Touch me. Just touch me." Her voice is firm. She knows exactly what she needs.

"What?" He lets go of her hand and shoves his own into his pockets and for a moment she's reminded of Finn. They really are so much alike sometimes. "Quinn, I don't think that's a good idea. You just went through something terrible. Wouldn't you rather..."

"No. I need to forget the feeling of his hands on me. I just want to be close to you. You don't have to..."

And she isn't sure what she's going to say so she trails off and scrunches her face up in a pout. Looks at him through watery eyes and internally prays for him to relent.

"Quinn, I..." His face is unsure but he pulls his hands from his pockets, reaches out to her again, and holds her hand in between his as if it's the most delicate thing in the world. She can feel her fingers begin to tremble and he can too because he starts to let go. She doesn't let him, holds on firmly to his hand. "Quinn, maybe this isn't a good idea. You've been traumatized and..."

"No. No, I know what I need. You can make me feel better. I just want you to erase the feel of his hands on me." She pulls his hand towards her and he's forced to take a step closer. She places it on her shoulder. "It doesn't have to be anything sexual. Just touch me."

She can just barely see his cheeks flush red in the dim light from the TV but she can clearly see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down with his nerves. She thinks he's going to pull away and she braces for it but instead he runs his knuckles gently down her bare arm. She shudders.

"Is that okay?" His voice is barely a whisper. "Is that what you what?"

She nods. He steps closer and does the same thing to her other other. Feather light touches that she can just barely feel.

It's too much – too much emotion, too much heartbreak, too much want. She closes her eyes. She's afraid to keep looking at him.

His fingers are on her chin, lifting it upwards slowly, gently. He runs his other hand through her still damp hair softly. Lets it linger on the back of her neck. His hand moves upwards from her chin and he runs his knuckles along her cheek, trails his fingertips downward, and run his thumb along her bottom lip.

"Is this okay? Is this what you want?" He repeats and his voice is very quiet – as if he's afraid that if he's too loud, he'll break her. She opens her eyes and stares into his. There is no malicious hatred, no dark, evil smirk. There is only concern and kindness.

She isn't sure who moves first or if they move at the same time but his lips are ghosting over hers, his breath tickling her cheek. Her heart flutters into her throat – she wants this so badly that it literally hurts. He applies the barest of pressure, pulls back a fraction of an inch and does it again...and again...and again...and again...and again...

She wants to cry. Feels her eyes start to sting.

She parts her lips slightly, desperate for more but not wanting to scare him away. He nibbles gently at her bottom lip and she can't take it anymore. She leans forward on her tiptoes and crashes her mouth into his. It's desperate and needy and he makes a small, soft sound in the back of his throat that runs down her spine and pools in her stomach.

She walks forward and he's forced to move backwards until the back of his knees hit the couch and then he's sitting and she's sliding her legs over his and straddling his lap. Her hands go up to his face and then to the back of his neck to hold him in place. She needs him to stay. Seconds or minutes or hours pass. It doesn't matter.

Time doesn't matter. Nothing matters except his lips against hers. His solid body beneath hers helping her to forget.

She needs more. Never needed anything more in her life. She breaks apart just enough to lick at his bottom lip and then his hands are on her forearms and he's trying to move her away. "No! Don't you dare!"

She pulls her arms back and places her hands on his chest. Kisses his throat, his jaw, his shoulder – any where she can reach without moving her body too much. Sucks at the soft skin beneath his ear, clutches the fabric of his shirt tight in her hands and brings him closer.

She needs to be closer.

"Quinn." And no one has ever spoken her name like that before – with such longing and desperation and regret. He makes a desperate, needy sound in the back of his throat and then his hands are on her waist and he's pulling her tightly to his chest and bringing his mouth back down on hers. It's hungry and frantic and dirty and a little rough and she doesn't care. Loves every second of it.

Wants this so badly that it hurts to breathe.

She flicks her tongue out again and this time there's no stopping it. Their tongues meet - softly at first, the gentlest of caresses, barely their touches – until he's frantic again and his tongue is hot in her mouth and tangling with her own and he's making little sighing noises that travel through her and settle in her bones.

She thinks that this is what he needs too. She is what he needs.

She _knows_ that he is what she needs.

He pulls his mouth away from hers and she's about to protest again but then his lips are sucking greedily on the warm skin of her neck and his hands are roaming up and down her back and his breath is in her ear. He's going to leave a mark. She wants him to leave a mark even though there are no mirrors and she won't be able to see it. Some how it will make this more real.

His sighing noises have turned into little gasping moans and she can't stop herself from making her own. Can't keep the sounds of pleasure from tearing from her throat. Can't help it when her hips rock forward involuntarily but he's too far gone to stop her now.

She isn't going to let this get that far. She isn't stupid enough to make the same mistake twice and she can't...not so soon after Monster violated her.

She slides her hands down his chest and tugs on the hem of his t-shirt. He gets the point quickly and pulls it over his head and throws it somewhere behind them. She unbuttons the top two buttons of her dress and slides it down off her shoulders so it pools at her waist. She just wants to feel the warmth of his skin against her own.

Wants to know that he's solid and here and hers.

She slides closer, rubs her skin against his. Presses her fingers into hard muscle. She leaves her bra on – she's not ready for that and knows he isn't either. She doesn't want to scare him away. She's surprised she hasn't already.

His lips crash against hers again and it's all teeth and tongue and passion. She rocks against him again and he groans into her mouth. Moves his lips downward and places hot, open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone and back up. Sucks greedily on her pulse point, bites gently, and then soothes the spot with gentle caresses of his tongue.

She rubs her hands down his sides, along his back – careful of the still healing cuts and scraps, squeezes his biceps hard. Moans his name against the shell of his ear. Drags her hands up to the back of his neck to pull him into another fiery kiss. His hands are on her waist anchoring her in place. The kiss lasts until they need to break apart for air. She trails her lips down his jaw – the scratchy stubble on his cheek some how comforting. She nibbles his ear lobe and his hips move up against her reflexively. She moans his name again – a filthy promise. His hips rock again...and then he freezes.

"Quinn...I...we can't do..."

She shushes him with a swipe of her tongue against the shell of his ear, "We're not. It's okay. Just let me love you. Let me feel you."

He groans again - loudly, primal. His hands go up to her back and he flips them so that she's laying across the couch with him hovering over her. He braces his hands next to her head and keeps his hips away from her now but she already felt it - he wants her as much as she wants him. And then his hands are cradling her face gently and the urgency of his kiss turns into something else. Something slow and languorous – as if they have all the time in the world. He explores her mouth with his tongue and she reciprocates. They stay like that for a long while until he breaks apart, nibbling her bottom lip, and then letting go and resting his forehead against hers.

She stares up at him – at his flushed cheeks and swollen lips and she knows she must look the same. "I..." And she isn't exactly sure what to say. Has to close her mouth and think a moment before starting over, "Thank you for not running away."

He smiles, a genuine smile that would have reached his eyes had they been open, "I couldn't. I will never run away when you need me."

"I love you." She whispers it against his lips before she kisses him again softly. He doesn't say it back but with the way his hands are cradling her face as if she's the most precious thing in the world, she feels it anyway.

He pulls away first. Pulls her dress back up and buttons it for her. Kisses her nose. Stands and then stoops to lift her up in strong arms. He carries her to _their _bed and lays her down, spooning himself tightly behind her and wrapping his arm around her middle. He places a single kiss on the spot where her shoulder and neck meet and it's so gentle and so sweet that she can't stop the single tear the rolls down her cheek. His breath tickles her hair as he repeats his earlier question, "Was that okay? Is that what you needed?"

She nods against his chin and feels him smile against her hair, "Good-night, Will."

"Hey. I promise, Quinn. We're going to get out of here."

He says it with such conviction that she almost believes him.

It's the memory of his hands on her body that she falls asleep with that night.


	28. Chapter 28

**Rated R for language.**

*** … * … * … * … * … ***

**Present Time**

Quinn doesn't realize the significance of the date until she's listening to the news on the way to school Monday morning. She tells herself it's just a coincidence. God doesn't hate her as much as He seems to...or maybe He does. Maybe she's being punished for getting pregnant before she was married. Or maybe because she was so mean to everyone after she made the Cheerios.

If she tells herself it's just a coincidence, maybe it will be easier...

The somber voice on the radio announces that today would have marked the tenth birthday of Rebecca Fergusson and the eighteenth birthday of Brittany Pierce. Two victims of the Daylight Killer with the same birthday. The two victims that hold the most significance for the two survivors.

The town is planning a remembrance gathering in front of the local library.

Quinn won't be there. Quinn knows that she is the reason they are both dead.

She feels her throat start to constrict and has to pull over to the side of the road to try to catch her breath. She wants to go home – doesn't want to deal with school and the unrelenting stares of teachers and students. Her mom wouldn't allow it though. She will say that if she misses any more school it will "affect her future".

What future?

She takes deep, calming breaths and scrambles for her phone on the passenger seat. Her hands are shaking as she types out the message.

7:28 am Message to Will Schuester: It's her birthday today. Her and Brittany. Please talk to me!

She drops the phone into her bag, steals her nerve, and merges back onto the road. She makes it to school in a daze and doesn't bother meeting her friends before stumbling down the corridor to Coach Sylvester's office. At least she can spend most of the day hiding away.

Hiding away like the coward that she thinks she is.

Coach Sylvester has meetings scheduled for most of the day which means Quinn gets to be alone. She's internally grateful of the fact.

It's half way through third period before her bladder forces her up and out of the seat.

Santana is crying in front of the mirror when Quinn enters the bathroom. She turns to leave – to run away and hide, but the other girl has already noticed her. Her reflection sneers back at Quinn."What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Nothing...I'll just..."

"No. Stay. You took Brittany away from me, you might as well take the bathroom from me too." She dries her eyes on a paper towel and then turns so she is facing Quinn. She crosses her arms over her chest. "So, how was it down there in that room? I see you didn't end up knocked up again, I guess he used a condom or maybe he was just too distracted by Mr. Schue's abs to give it to you. Who was the bigger bitch? You or Schue?"

"Fuck off, Santana. You have no idea..."

"No, I don't and I don't care. I don't care anything about you. Everyone else wants to walk on eggshells around you but I remember what a cunt you were last year. I'm not going to pretend to like you."

"That's fantastic." She replies sarcastically – her voice cracking slightly. She pushes open the door, needing to escape but Santana's hard voice makes her pause.

"I'm glad you gave up your baby, though. At least she has a chance. If she stayed with you she'd probably be dead by now since you can't even take care of a nine-year-old without having it end up in the ground."

And then Quinn is running. Running as fast as she can to escape Santana's words but it doesn't work. It's stuck to her – lingering all around.

* … * … * … * … *

Kurt is nervously drumming his fingers in Chemistry first period.. He was listening to the news this morning when they announced the vigil and he hasn't seen Quinn all morning. He wants to make sure that she's alright. If she doesn't show up for lunch, he'll go looking for her. He's not one to skip class but exceptions can always be made.

This is how he finds himself standing outside her house at 12:30 in the afternoon. She didn't show up for lunch and she wasn't in Coach Sylvester's office. She hasn't answered the phone or texted him back all day and so he inconspicuously left the school through the exit by the choir room and drove to her house.

The only car in the driveway is hers. Her mother must be at work or running errands. He knocks but doesn't receive an answer. Taking a chance, he tries the knob and thankfully, it's unlocked.

His feet carry him up the stairs to her room. There is a nervous pit filled with dread weighing on his insides.

He finds her asleep on her bed and breathes a sigh of relief. She's fine – just needed a day alone. He understands that all too well. "Quinn?"

She doesn't stir so he shakes her shoulder gently and calls her name again.

Still nothing.

It isn't until he looks at her with more scrutiny that he realizes that something is horribly wrong. Her eyes are opened ever so slightly and there is a large amount of drool on her chin. The nervous pit explodes and he's on the bed trying to shake her awake forcefully.

Her eyes very slowly open fully to regard him but they're glassy and unfocused. Her voice is slurred terribly and devoid of emotion. "Kurt, just let me die."

"What did you take!? Come on! You need to puke it back up!" He's frantic, tears spilling down his cheeks. He tries to pull her upright but she's all dead weight and he can't.

"No. Santana was right. I need to die." Her eyes roll up into the back of her head and even though he tries his hardest, he can't wake her up again. He pulls out his phone and dials 9-1-1. He frenziedly gives her information to the dispatcher and then squeezes her clammy hand between his own while he waits for the paramedics to show up.

He keeps his eyes glued to the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. As long as she's breathing, she'll be okay. He'll be okay.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn had to have her stomach pumped.

She took half a bottle of sleeping pills and then laid down to die.

Even the idea of that is beyond Kurt's comprehension at the moment. He sits in the uncomfortable plastic seat in the overly bright waiting room...and waits. Waits to be told she's alright. Waits to be able to visit his friend. He texts Mercedes to tell her what is going on because he knows that she will inform everyone of importance and he just can't do it himself right now.

Quinn's mother and sister are also in the room but he doesn't speak to them. They are huddled together, whispering, crying. He doesn't want to intrude. At one point however, he does hear her mother say that she has called Coach Sylvester. That's good. Quinn will be glad to see her.

The doctor comes out and joins the Fabray whisper circle and Kurt feels left out but knows that he's not family and it's not his place to be included. Her mother smiles tightly at him as the doctor leads her into the room. He supposes that it's a good sign.

Surprisingly, it is Puck who shows up next and more surprisingly, he sits directly next to Kurt. He hasn't spoken to the jock since June but he has seen him around – at the vigils that were held during the summer and in various classes at school. "Hey. Is she...how is she?"

Kurt wonders how he knew she was in the hospital but doesn't ask. Maybe Mercedes thought he was still apart of their group,

"Oh, you know." He answers, feeling sort of stupid, "She's...I guess, she's okay."

Puck nods and rubs his hands together compulsively. "Do you think she'll let me see her?"

"I think she would love to see you." Kurt looks him in the eye, trying to be reassuring. "Maybe not tonight but she really needs her friends right now. I plan on sticking around if you would like..."

"Yeah." He interrupts, clearly uncomfortable, "I'll stay with you. You know, be a shoulder for you to cry on or some shit."

Kurt nods, understanding the meaning behind his discomfort. They're quiet for a long time. The five o'clock news starts to play on the TV, interrupting the silence. Puck breaks it first, "I haven't been here since the day I found Mr. Schue...the day they found her, you know?"

Kurt nods. He's never really heard the story and he's not going to push Puck to divulge anything he's not ready to.

"Have you seen him? He was pretty messed up. I texted him a couple of times but he never answered me."

"Yeah. He's good at that." At Puck's confused expression, he elaborates slightly, "No, I haven't seen him."

Puck nods again, "I was going to, you know, visit Quinn, I wasn't sure if she'd want to see me."

"You're here now." And if he were Finn or Mike or Matt, Kurt would have squeezed his hand but it's Puck and Kurt is fairly certain he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. Not because he would see it as "gay" but because he would see it as Kurt thinking he is weak.

Silence descends again.

After nearly twenty minutes, it is the clicking of Miss Pillsbury's shoes on the linoleum that interrupts the quiet.

Another strange development.

He stares unabashedly as she sterilizes a chair with disinfectant wipes. This is the forth time he has seen her in a hospital. The first was just after the fiasco that led to April Rhodes getting him drunk in school. The second was just after his father's heart attack The third was in the hallway outside Mr. Schuester's room last month. His association with her will always be hospitals.

She finally sits, perched at the very end of the seat. She catches Kurt's eye and smiles warily – clearly uncomfortable at being in a place full of germs. "Quinn's mom called me." She explains quietly, "She thought maybe Quinn would be more comfortable speaking with me rather than the hospital shrink."

Puck completely ignores her. Kurt nods but doesn't say anything. Ms. Pillsbury is a nice woman but every time he looks at her, he's reminded of their near loss at Sectionals, or her stiff posture as she sat in the waiting room while his father was laying in a hospital bed, or the hurt on Mr. Schue's face in the days after he learned she was dating the dentist. It's just easier not to speak to her. Not to look at her.

He stares back at the TV until eventually Mercedes, Tina, Mike, and Artie show up. These are his friends. Quinn's friends. They sit in the seats surrounding him and he is able to breathe a sigh of relief at no longer feeling alone.

"How is she?" Mercedes asks quietly, squeezing Kurt's shoulder.

"The doctors brought her mom and sister in a while ago. I'm hoping we'll be able to at least say hello before visiting hours are over."

"Fuck visiting hours. I'm not going anywhere." Puck says firmly and the group collectively nods at him. Even Ms. Pillsbury moves her head in agreement.

"I agree with Puck." Finn's voice wafts from the doorway and Kurt's head snaps up quickly to stare at him. His hands are shoved into his pockets and he's shuffling his feet nervously. He moves quickly and takes up the empty seat on the other side of Puck. "I can't believe this happened. Does anyone know why she did it? I mean, I talked with her on Friday and she was okay. We were supposed to all have lunch together..."

"Santana." Kurt mutters but doesn't elaborate. Can't elaborate for certain. He doesn't want to talk about this right now. Thankfully, everyone understands.

"Did anyone call Rachel? Finn, did you?" Tina asks quietly, noticing the other girl's absence.

"No, I...I didn't call." Finn answers warily. He doesn't say why and no one pushes him to.

They talk amongst each other for a long while. Mercedes shares funny stories about Quinn from the time the two lived together – how she likes to sleep with a night light and how she secretly loves to watch Nick at Night. They laugh because that's what they are supposed to do. Mike holds Tina's hand when she begins to cry. Kurt holds Finn's hand when he begins to cry.

Nearly an hour has passed before Quinn's mom and sister return. They look surprised to see so many people waiting to see Quinn. "It'll be a few minutes, guys. She's not up to seeing many people though. Maybe one or two of you tonight and the rest of you can try tomorrow? She's very tired."

"I need to see her." Kurt says firmly and it's true. He's never needed anything so badly before.

"I'll come back tomorrow." Tina sniffles and Mike nods beside her, "I just really wanted to know that she was okay."

"She's okay, sweetie." Quinn's mom smiles but it doesn't erase the worry lines from the rest of her face.

Tina and Mike leave for the night. Artie goes too because he knows that Kurt, Puck, and Finn need to see for themselves that she is alright more than he does. The three promise to return directly after school the next day.

Mercedes looks around the room at the remaining occupants, "I'm sticking around even if I don't get to see her tonight."

They sit quietly until the doctor announces that one of them can enter the room. Kurt automatically stands up and follows and the others let him. They understand that after seeing one of his best friends nearly die, he needs this the most.

* … * … * … * … *

Kurt enters the dim room. Quinn is sitting propped up with pillows in the oversized bed. She looks tiny and helpless but her eyes are focused and alert. He absently nods to the doctor as the man leaves the room before moving and taking a seat next to the bed. "Quinn, I...I thought I'd have some big speech planned out but I'm drawing a blank. I'm so happy you're okay."

She frowns, "Do I look okay? You should have just left me..."

"No! Why would you even think that?" His eyes sting and he swats away the tears angrily.

"I...Santana is right. It should have been me with the bullet in my brain. That's what was supposed to happen." Her voice cracks and she hides her face in her hands.

Kurt moves from the chair to sit next to her on the bed, mindful of the IV running out of her arm, "Santana is a bitch..."

"She's upset. She misses Brittany, They were very close." Her voice is small and hollow and muffled by her hands.

"Maybe but she's still a bitch. Look, if you had died in the parking lot than Brittany would be in your position now. She would have been the one kidnapped and she would have had to have dealt with that. Do you think she could have? Do you think anyone else could have? You're such a strong person, Quinn. That's why you are here today."

_I mean, come on! You're Quinn Fabray, right?_

She shudders at the flash of memory. Will standing over her in the choir room trying to make her feel better after he figured out she posted the Glist. It's Kurt trying to make her feel better now. Will is gone. She drops her hands and meets his eyes, "I'm not strong anymore. I don't know if I ever was."

"Then I'm going to spend the rest of my days trying to convince you of it but you are never, ever going to do this again, right? Please, Quinn! You have a room full of people out there who love you and would be devastated if anything happened to you."

She nods. Kurt leans on the pillows next to her and holds her hand. It's almost peaceful. They are silent for a long time before Kurt breaks it, "Puck and Finn and Mercedes are in the waiting room. Do you want to see them?"

She inhales deeply, thinking for a moment, but then shakes her head. "No. Maybe later. Stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

* … * … * … * … * … *

It's dark now.

Kurt has to move back to the chair when the doctor comes in to check Quinn's IV. He left soon after and Quinn nodded off - dozing restlessly.

He's sitting on the uncomfortable seat, cradling his head in his hands when he hears the soft click of the door opening and closing but he doesn't look up. It's Quinn's mom or sister or the doctor and he just can't feign interest in any of them at the moment. He doesn't raise his head until he hears Quinn's soft gasp. Apparently the clicking of the door roused her from her slumber. His eyes raise to look at her but she's staring wildly at the door, tears pooling in her eyes and cascading down her cheeks instantly.

He snaps his head around to look at the door and can't suppress his own gasp at the sight of the man standing there, "Mr. Schuester."

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

**I just have to say how happy I get when someone points out foreshadowing because there is bunches and bunches. I do love me some foreshadowing.**

**Anyways, thank you all for your reviews/suggestions/favorites/follows/messages. I really didn't expect so many people to actually read this. It's kind of a niche pairing/concept, no?**

**My dog ate my adapter. I filched a friend's to finish this chapter and some homework but I shall not have another chapter posted until the fine folks at UPS deliver my new cable. Lo siento. :(**

**I don't do end of chapter notes generally but I didn't want to spoil things up top. The next couple of present day chapter shall be full of reunions: Quill, Wemma, Quick. I also love me some reunions. :p**

**That is the only spoiler you shall ever receive. :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**I have the second part of the last chapter mostly written but I decided I'd break up the angst with a little fluff...although I suppose this isn't all fluff. :p**

**Not rated R. Spectacular.**

**Once again, thank you for all the kind words! Especially all of you who have written me multiple times and all of you who have told me that you read this all in one go (because that must have taken a rather substantial period of time). You guys are stupendous and I appreciate you all. :)**

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

**Late August**

"Where did you get this?" Quinn lazily traces her finger along a long jagged scar on the front of Will's right shoulder. She looks up at him – past his kiss swollen lips and to his eyes. He smiles gently at her before his eyes move to see what she's referring to.

It's been two days since they last saw Monster and a sense of calmness has settled over them. They spent both days playing with Becky like they used to – dress up and soup bottle bowling. Twenty questions and a dance party. A hand clapping tournament and charades. Becky went to bed smiling ear-to-ear both days. She was ecstatic to have the two of them playing with her at the same time again. Ecstatic to see smiles on their faces.

It's late. Will and Quinn have been laying on the couch for nearly two hours. She's snuggled with her head against his bare chest. She can still feel his hands on her back. His tongue in her mouth. They were half-way through an episode of Fashion Police when Quinn had kissed him to stop his grumbling. She thinks that secretly, the reason he didn't push her away (although judging by his gasps and heavy breathing, he was clearly into it) was because he didn't want to watch the show anymore.

Thank you, Joan Rivers.

He laughs slightly and she knows that her question has made him nervous. "It's a very old scar."

She folds her arms across his chest and balances her chin on her hands. Looks up at him to find him looking back at her. "I can tell but what is it? You said I don't know you. I want to know everything."

He snorts at her breathy tone, "I'm not the hero in some romance novel, Quinn. I'm not very interesting. You'll be disappointed."

"You are the most self-deprecating person I've ever met." She wants to kiss him again but at the look on his face, she refrains. "Don't do that. You're perfect."

"Clearly you're blind." He snorts again and she tickles his ribs for a few seconds. He giggles and his muscles tighten under her fingers until she lets up. He shoots her a glare.

She chuckles at him and then adopts a more serious tone, "I mean it. Don't do that. Why do you do that?" She resumes her initial position with her head against his chest.

"I...I'll answer your questions if you answer mine. A question for a question."

"A game."

"Indeed." And there is an edge of playfulness in his voice again. She nods against his chest, a smile on her lips.

She kisses his stomach and he inhales sharply at the feeling, "I get to go first because of that." She doesn't answer but he feels her lips pull up into a smile against his skin. He takes it as a conformation and thinks for a moment, "Would you rather be a penguin who can't swim or a bird who can't fly?"

She laughs in surprise and turns her head to look up at him, "What kind of question is that?"

He smiles because he's glad he's made her laugh. If he had asked Terri anything like that, she would have called him an idiot. "It's the kind of question you answered with a question. And now I get another."

Her eyes scrunch up in mock anger, "That's cheating!"

"Nope. The rules were a question for a question. Answer the first one." He wiggles his eyebrows at her angry expression and she laughs again.

"Fine. Um. The penguin, I guess. It would be sad to see all the other birds flying around and not being able to do it myself. Next." She kisses his stomach again and his hand goes up to her hair, stroking gently.

"I didn't actually have another thought up. um..." He trails off, thinking. "Okay. What's your favorite color?"

"Green. I like earth tones. My turn now. Answer me about the scar." Her fingers easily find the spot on his shoulder without having to look up.

He sighs, "Fine. I...my mom..." He swallows and the hand on her hair pauses before continuing again with his words, "My mom drinks a lot. I've told you that." She nods and he continues, "When I was ten, she was really bad one night and she threw a wine glass at me and it broke against my collar bone. I guess, I'm sort of boney. My dad took me to get stitches but it didn't close up neatly. Hence the scar."

She looks up at him and he's looking down at her sadly. She leans up and places a chaste kiss on the scar, "That's awful."

"She didn't know what she was doing. She never knew what she was doing." His voice is emotionless but his warm hand on her head is comforting.

"She did things like that a lot?" Her voice is cold. She wants to throttle the woman for hurting him.

"That's a question and it's my turn." He chuckles at her frustrated sigh, "What's your biggest dream in life?"

Her eyes turn up again to look at him. No one has ever asked her that. People mostly tell her what she _should_ _be_ doing. No one cares what she _wants to be_ doing. She sees only deep curiosity written on his face and her heart swells. He wants to _know _her. "Well, I guess if I could do anything, I'd want to be a counselor. I'd want to help girls who have to live through what I lived through. There really wasn't many people to help me besides the Glee Club and some girls don't even have that. I'd like to create a support system. Maybe some sort of shelter. No girl should have to be homeless and pregnant."

He hugs her to his chest and kisses the top of her head, "That is very admirable, Quinn."

She hugs him back. They are silent for a few moments so when she breaks the quiet, he jumps slightly, "Why do you always tear yourself down?"

"I don't." His voice remains passive.

"You do. Even over silly things. You're very negative towards yourself and you blame yourself for things that aren't your fault." She traces a heart above his navel. If he realizes what pattern she's creating, he doesn't say anything.

"Um. I guess... I guess because my parents weren't very nice to me and then Terri – well, I'm not sure why she stayed with me for so long because she was always asking me what was wrong with me. I'm still not sure the answer to that." He trails off, looking away from her.

"Nothing. The answer is nothing." She hugs him tightly again. She's surprised that the terrible people in his life didn't leave him angry and jaded. They were cruel to him and yet he's sweet and funny and kind. She admires that. Her own parents left her bitter for a very long time. She's still a little bitter.

He clears his throat lightly, "If you could eat anything at this moment, what would it be?"

"Mint chocolate chip ice cream. A gallon of it." He laughs against her head and she feels her face start to burn, "Not that – I mean, I wouldn't eat that much. I'm not a pig or anything." She sucks in her stomach slightly. She doesn't want him to feel the slight swell of baby weight that is still hanging around her middle.

"Of course not."

He's made her uncomfortable – unintentionally, but she wants to return the favor, "Why was everyone calling you a man-whore last year?"

He swallows hard and laughs breathlessly. He's nervous again. Her question worked. "I...uh...it was a stupid rumor that Sue started."

"That's not the whole answer. That's cheating."

He opens his mouth to argue but stops himself, "She told Em...Ms. Pillsbury that I slept with Shelby Cochran and April Rhodes."

"Is that true?"

"That's another quest..."

She cuts him off, "You can ask me two in a row."

He wants to argue but relents, "No. It's not true. I kissed Shelby once and April slept over my house but the only person I've ever slept with is Terri. Well...until..."

He trails off and she knows that he means Monster. He slept with his ex-wife and Monster raped him. She kisses his stomach lightly to comfort him. "I think it's kind of tragic that you have this body and you've only given it to one woman. But it's romantic. I was trying to save myself..."

"Terri used to say that my torso was the only good part of me. 'It's a good thing you have those abs to make up for the lack of a brain'. She wasn't very nice. I see that now." He pauses, "We all make mistakes. Next time you...next time you give yourself to someone, it will be for love and it will be beautiful."

He kisses her head and she doesn't tell him that she hopes that the next time is with him. That if they ever get out of the basement, she wants him to give her a ring and have a small ceremony and take his last name. She doesn't want to shock him. She doesn't want to be _that _girl. The girl fawning over an older man. The girl with the obsessive crush The girl who falls in love too easily.

"Why does everyone call you Quinn when your name is Lucy on roll sheets?" She tenses against him and he wants to take the question back. It's obviously upset her, "I...you don't have..."

"No. It's...you shared with me." She swallows and hides her face so he can't get a look at the red on her cheeks, "My middle name is Quinn. I started going by that because...because I used to be really fat and when I lost the weight, I wanted to lose that girl too. I wanted to be someone else."

His hand goes to her chin and he tilts her head up, "You are perfect no matter what you look like."

And she feels a tear escape her eye because she knows he means it. He isn't just some boy trying to get her skirt off. He cares about her. "Thank you."

He smiles and wipes the tear away. At the look on her face, he decides to change the subject to something more lighthearted. "Would you rather own a dozen monkeys who insist on sleeping at the foot of your bed or one thirty foot alligator?"

"What the hell?" She laughs at him and he smiles wide, "Where do you come up with these things? The monkeys, I guess."

"Good choice. Good choice." He laughs and the sound goes straight to her heart. He doesn't laugh often. She doesn't either, she realizes. She's laughed more tonight than she has in months – maybe a year.

"Okay. Rapid fire." She wants to know so much, "Favorite movie?"

"Singin' in the Rain. Favorite sport?"

"Gymnastics. Favorite dinner?"

"Chocolate chip cookies..."

"That's a snack, not dinner." She giggles and he shrugs his shoulders.

"I've eaten them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner before. Cookies are the seventh food group. Favorite song?"

"Hallelujah..."

"I could have guessed that, Ms. Chastity Club."

"Ha ha." But she smiles despite herself, "Favorite band?"

"Band? U2, I guess but there are so many..."

She cuts him off, "You don't say, Mr. Glee Club."

He laughs, long and drawn out and squeezes her gently to his chest, "Favorite TV show, TV fanatic?"

"I loves me some TV." Another laugh and she joins in too, "American Idol. Simon Cowell is hilarious."

"Simon Cowell is a jerk. He's like the male Sue Sylvester."

"He couldn't pull off the track suit though." She laughs as he shudders beneath her in mock disgust, "What did you want to be when you were little?"

"Uh – a dancer, I guess. I didn't really think much about it, I don't think."

"Where did you learn to dance?" She had always wondered.

"Myself. I had a lot of time to myself as a kid." His voice is emotionless again and she turns her head to look at him.

"I'm sorry I insulted you about your dancing when I first joined Glee Club. And I'm sorry about Dakota Stanley and helping Coach Sylvester and..."

"It's okay. It's not like I was really trying to bust a move or anything. I can dance but you were right, I'm not a trained choreographer." His voice is gentle now, quiet. "That was two though. Favorite toy as a child?"

She smiles because she thought he had missed her slip, "Roller skates."

"Annnnnd favorite movie?"

"Question thief. Titanic." She swats him playfully at his disgusted look, "It's a great love story! So tragic and romantic!"

"Romantic, fine. I'm not really into tragic tales."

"Why not!? Romeo and Juliet?! Come on! That's the best play!"

"For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo!" He quotes in a mock British accent and she laughs again.

"Fine. Then what's your favorite Shakespearean play?" She expects Hamlet or maybe MacBeth. Something common place.

"Othello. But I'm more of an Oscar Wilde sort of guy."

"Or show tunes."

"Or those." He smiles, laughs at her teasing and she reciprocates. "Favorite book?"

"The Lord of the Rings or the entire Harry Potter series. But don't tell anyone that. I have a reputation to maintain."

"I shall not sully your good name by revealing that you are a nerd."

She swats him playfully. He laughs. She laughs.

"Quote Shakespeare to me." She's feeling high off of the sound of his voice. His laugh. It's mesmerizing to her. She wants him to romance her because no one ever has. He's so like Finn but so unlike him at the same time. Finn would never do this with her. He would talk about sports or school or TV. Will talks about her dreams, her future, what she likes, what she wants. He's a romantic, an artist – and she wants to learn every piece of him.

"What makes you think I can? I told you, I'm not very bright." He knows it isn't right in the back of his mind but he wants to kiss her. No one has ever taken an interest in him before. No one has ever believed in him, really. Emma came close once upon a time but thinking back on it, maybe it was just an infatuation.

_If we were to rank crush worthy teachers at this school, you'd be number one with a bullet._

Maybe she never really cared about him if she was willing to give up on him so easily.

_I'm seeing someone. His name is Carl._

If she was willing to believe Sue's lies and half-truths without even asking him about it.

_You're a slut, Will. You're a slut, you're a slut, you're a slut. Everyone should know that._

If she was willing to throw him away for a dentist with an expensive car.

_And you should know that I'm through with you._

If she was...

Quinn's hand is on his face pulling gently so their eyes can meet, "Where did you go?"

"No where." He must have spaced out. He hasn't done that in a couple of days. Not that he remembers anyway. "I'm right here with you." She leans forward and brushes her lips against his. She can see right through him.

"You told me your ex-wife thought you were stupid. Prove her wrong." She challenges with a smirk.

He blinks at her. Their eyes stay connected and he keeps his voice very low. "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

"That's depressing." She lays her head back against his chest and listens to his heart beat. His skin is hot against her own and it warms her. She's always cold and she thinks he's crazy for laying here with no shirt even though she's the one who pulled it off of him. The memory of her hands and mouth against his chest makes her abdomen tighten reflexively. She asks another question to fill the silence, "Boxers or briefs?" She tugs on his belt loops and pretends to peer inside his jeans.

He swats her hand away gently, "That's innap..." He bites his lip to stop himself from finishing the word when she glares at him, "Boxer briefs. Favorite candy?"

"Pez."

"Pez!? Gross, Quinn." He smiles this time when she glares again.

"I like the dispensers. Some of them are cute. What do you really think of Rachel Berry?"

He laughs because the question is unexpected and the mock-scandalous look on her face is adorable, "She's very driven."

"She's kind of a bitch."

"I wouldn't say that. She's..."

"You wouldn't say anything negative about anyone though."

"I would! Uh - she can be a little...abrasive." He grimaces and she knows he didn't want to say it. He does a lot of things for her that he doesn't want to do. "Cats or dogs? And this is very important because if you choose the wrong answer, I may never speak to you again." His voice is very serious but when she locks eyes with him, they're mischievous and playful.

"Dogs."

"Be still my heart!" He pulls her body fully on top of his in one fluid motion and squeezes her tightly. She laughs against his chest.

"What's so bad about cats? They're cute!"

"Careful!" He's still holding her and his voice rumbles in her ear, "My grandfather had a cat when I was a kid." He lets her go so he can show her his arm. There are several barely-there-scars along his forearm. "That stupid cat attacked me if I walked in the same room as it. Sadly everyone was always on the cat's side." She isn't sure if he's serious or not but she puts an open mouthed kiss on his heart anyway, "And Terri had a cat when I first met her. The thing was covered in fleas. Come to find out, the only thing in the world I'm allergic to is fleas. You'll never know misery until you've had hives in your ears."

"You just haven't met the right cat. You should meet Lord Tubbington..." Her throat tightens immediately with sorrow. She said it without thinking.

"Who is Lord Tubbington?" He chuckles at the name but when she doesn't answer he tilts his head so that he can see her face. His eyes scrunch together in concern when he sees her tears, "Did I say something wrong? What's the..."

"No. No, no, no. It's not that." She wipes her eyes and then buries her face in his chest to hide her pain, "He's Brittany's cat. I...she..."

He pulls her up gently so that her face is against his neck, her body draped across his. Hugs her tightly and strokes her hair. He feels his own eyes sting at the mention of the Brittany's name. He closes his eyes and tries to picture her face smiling during Glee rehearsal or Spanish class but all he can see is her dead eyes and the bullet hole marring her forehead. It was supposed to be Quinn. She was supposed to be dead on the pavement. Brittany was supposed to be here. His eyes are losing focus and his mind feels foggy. He realizes it but can't stop it.

Quinn cries for a long while. Will's hand has stopped moving on her head and she thinks that he has maybe fallen asleep. She discreetly dries her eyes and then looks up, expecting to find his closed. They aren't. He's wide-eyed and unblinking. She's seen him lose focus before but this is...different and it worries her. Her hands move up to cup his face softly and she has to call his name several times before he blinks and looks at her. "Where did you go?" She repeats her question from earlier.

"I...no where." His voice is scratchy, confused. He stares at her for a moment trying to process where he is. They were playing a game. Everything is fine. His voice is strong again when he continues. Also repeating himself, "I'm right here with you."

"Don't leave me?" She whispers it against his neck and he shivers.

"Never."

They're quiet again but this time his hand moves in a continuous pattern on her upper arm and she knows that his mind is still here. "Sing to me?"

"I..." He will. But his head feels clouded and he needs something first. Something to anchor him here. He's afraid to ask. He knows he shouldn't. She's his student and he's older _and...and...and..._

"Quinn...?"

"Yeah?"

"I...will you...before I sing to you, will you..."

She's never heard him quite this nervous before. She wonders if it has to do with his spacing out. "Will I...?"

"Kiss me." He breathes it into her hair. A hope whispered on a breath. And she does. It's the first time that he has initiated this sort of touching without being in distress first.

She scoots up and pulls his face gently to hers and kisses him with everything she has. It's soft and slow and full of all the love she feels for this man. They break apart when air becomes a problem and he holds their foreheads together and smiles against her lips. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't ask why. "I love you." She breathes it and her breath mixes with his between them.

"Don't." His voice is serious but the small smile remains.

"Always."

He kisses her again – their mouths molding together easily. Tongues caressing gently. He pulls back slightly, "Well I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?" He sings softly and then captures her lips again before pulling back, "Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah."

He kisses her again and she shivers against him. Finn and Puck have both sang to her but not like this. She pulls away this time and places her finger over his lips to keep him quiet. She takes over the song, "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah." She kisses his neck and his eyes drift closed, "Your faith was strong but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof. Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you." She sucks the spot beneath his ear that always makes him groan and smiles in satisfaction when he does, "She tied you to her kitchen chair. She broke your throne and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew a Hallelujah."

He draws her back up and crashes their mouths together. Pulls back a long moment later. "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah."

And then the song is abandoned as the kiss takes on a frenzied passion. Their mouths smack together again and again and again. Tongues battling and teeth nipping at already swollen lips. Quinn is too far gone to know better and grinds her hips down reflexively. She feels him through his jeans and shudders – he's hard for her. She made him that way. A sense of pride spreads throughout her chest even though his hands go up to her waist to still her movements.

"Well, well, well. This is an interesting turn of events."

They jump away from each other at the sound of the intruder's voice. Quinn is now sitting next to Will instead of laying on top of him.

They were distracted. Too caught up in each other to hear the creak at the top of the stairs or the footsteps on the wooden steps. There is a smile on his ugly face. He's holding a box. The gun is secure in his right hand but pointing downward.

"Relax. Mom and Dad are supposed to love each other. This is good. Mom left the first time because Dad wouldn't..." He trails off. His voice is light and Quinn wants to run away. She remembers the last time his voice sounded like that. Will's hand is clenched tightly in her own. "Actually, I don't want to play pretend right now. I want to celebrate! I was given a promotion at work and since you guys are my friends, I wanted to share the good news with you first!"

'Friends'? Seriously? Quinn wants to punch him in the balls.

Will swallows. He doesn't want to anger Monster. He doesn't want to go upstairs. He doesn't want to feel _him_ inside of him. Doesn't want the pain or the humiliation or the crushing shame. He just wants him to go away. He manages to keep his tone even, "Congratulations."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Monster smiles wide and drops the box to the ground. "I can only stay a minute because I have to be up early to train but I brought you some gifts to celebrate and the next time I come back, I'll bring cake and we can celebrate my success together as a family!"

"Sure. Whatever...whatever you want." Will smiles uneasily. Quinn tries not to glare.

"And next time I come back, we can play a game to decide who I get to bring upstairs next! It'll be so much fun! He keeps the gun trained on Becky's sleeping form as he hugs one and then the other. Quinn's skin is crawling at the feel of his body against hers. Will feels the overwhelming urge to vomit.

He doesn't.

Monster says good-night and then is gone just as quickly as he came. Their eyes lock but they say nothing.

Will clears his throat awkwardly and moves first. Kneels next to the box to peer inside. Fresh towels, more soup (of course), toothpaste, a few loaves of bread, crackers, and surprisingly – a large plastic bag full of tacos from Taco Bell and a pizza from Pizza Hut.

Will returns to his feet. Quinn expects him to pull away now that Monster has returned. Expects him to retreat and act distant again. Instead he steps close to her and captures her lips in a tender kiss.

She pulls away first. An idea is formulating in her mind. "We're going to get out of here." She runs her fingers along his chest and to his biceps, "You're going to bulk up now that we have some solid food. You'll get as strong and healthy as you possibly can and then we wait. We're going to wait until he's not expecting it, and then we're going to attack. Eventually, he's going to let his guard down and when he does, we're going to be ready."

He nods even though he's sure that it's never going to work. He'll humor her. He kisses her again until his heart stops pounding in fear and his mind clears. "Wake up Becky." He smiles against her lips. "It's dinner time."

"You want to eat tacos and pizza in the middle of the night?"

"Yep. While it's still hot."

"Well, okay then."

They end up saving the pizza but splitting all ten tacos between them because Will says they won't keep until morning. Quinn thinks he just wants to pig out on junk food. Either way, she's fine with it. Becky is groggy at first but the prospect of a full stomach has her up and active in a few short minutes. They sit on the floor and tell each other stories and riddles while they eat. Their own little picnic in hell.

It's close to 3 am when Will nods off against the side of the couch. Becky follows soon after – her head lolling against his chest, his arm protectively around her shoulder. Quinn wishes she could take a picture. This man would have been a great father to her daughter.

It's funny how things work out.

She wakes them both and they sleepily make it to their beds. She tucks Becky back into her bed and then crawls under the covers, snuggling tightly against Will's already sleeping form.

She wants to leave their dungeon so badly. Doesn't want the fear of the unknown gnawing on her insides constantly anymore. Monster could come back at any moment and rape, torture, or kill them all.

But she doesn't want to give Will up. Doesn't want to lose him. Doesn't want to give Becky up. Wants to keep them both with her forever.

A different sort of fear invades her mind as she drifts off to sleep.


	30. Chapter 30

**This is the flip side to chapter 28.  
**

**Since I've received a few messages in regards to this: I'd just like to say that eventually, all questions shall be answered. I do most things intentionally...unless you find a spelling/grammar mistake - that's just because I suck. :p  
**

**Rated...not-quite-R for language.**

*** … * … * … * … * ...* … ***

**Present Day**

Will can't sleep. He glances at the clock – 7:26 am. Which means he hasn't been asleep since he woke up yesterday morning. Almost 24 hours. He's gone from sleeping way too much to not at all.

Awesome.

Sue left early this morning for work. He isn't sure why she insisted on staying all weekend. It's not like he's a great conversationalist these days and besides, she hates him. She's told him too many times to count that she hates him but now – he doesn't even know. Maybe she likes to see him weak like Terri did. Maybe she's waiting til he lets his guard down enough to break him.

_Maybe she just wants to help._

Whatever the reason, she stayed all weekend – pulled him out of bed when he tried to hide away from her Saturday morning, read to him, cooked for him, did his laundry. He hadn't asked her to do any of those things but she had. It goes to the top of his mental list of things one would not expect from Sue Sylvester.

He ignores the thoughts that are tumbling through his brain, keeping him awake. He stares out the window. It's too bright to sleep now. The phone vibrates on the bed stand next to him. He considers ignoring it but reading it will take up a few seconds and he has nothing to do but wallow in crushing boredom.

7:28 am Message from Quinn Fabray: It's her birthday today. Her and Brittany. Please talk to me!

His chest constricts instantly. He didn't realize the day – he doesn't leave the house so he has no use for calendars or dates. Becky's face flashes in his mind and doesn't leave.

_She's smiling. They're dancing. She's snuggled next to his arm watching TV. They're playing Miss Mary Mack. She's talking easily. Laughing easily._

_She's crying. She's on the ground. Her blood is on his fingers. Her eyes are dead._

He can't breathe.

When he's able to focus again, his eyes go back to the clock. 11:05 am.

He blacked out again. He turns his head and bites down hard on his pillow to keep from screaming. He can't think of another way to get the hurt out. His eyes move upwards towards the pill bottles on his night stand. The doctor had prescribed him sleeping pills before he left the hospital. He's never used them before, had no need to, but...

He just needs to sleep.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Sue is getting ready to leave for that afternoon's Cheerio's practice when she gets the phone call from Quinn's mother shakily asking her to come to the hospital.

She was stuck in meetings all day so she only saw Quinn briefly in the morning. She seemed upset but not...this.

She cancels Cheerio's practice for the next two days and rushes to her car. She wants to get to the hospital quickly but she's picking up Schuester first. Quinn needs him and Sue doesn't care if he's ready or not – he's going.

It's a short drive to his apartment and she knows it by heart. She rushes through the building and uses her key to enter his home. She was planning on knocking and waiting for him to open the door when she stopped by later in the evening – wanted to start giving him more options, choices – but that idea is out the window for now.

She expected to see him on the fire escape or in the living room. It's nearly 4 pm but apparently he isn't awake yet.

She pushes open the bedroom door and her eyes immediately fall on the open pill bottle on the night stand. Her heart drops into her stomach.

_Not him too._

She rushes forward. He's so still. She can't tell if he's breathing.

_Shit. Shit Shit._

She yanks off his blankets and shakes him almost violently by the shoulders, "William!"

And then his eyes spring open and she jumps back, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" She screams in his face and his eyes knit together in confusion as he sits up. His breaths are coming out in short gasps and his hand goes up to his chest to try to stop it from heaving. She's scared him. "How many did you take!? Why would you do that?!"

He follows her eyes to the night stand and his eyebrows scrunch together even more. He holds up two fingers and she breathes a sigh of relief. The look on her face propels the words out of him. His voice is quiet. He doesn't want to disappoint her further by saying the wrong thing. "I...I couldn't sleep last night."

He looks like a scared child. At the look on his face, her eyes soften reflexively. "Okay, it's fine. That's fine. Get up, William. We're going to the hospital."

He shakes his head no. Remains sitting. He hates the hospital.

"We're doing this, William. Quinn needs you." She's afraid to tell him what happened. Afraid he'll break down.

His mouth opens and then snaps shut. His eyes are desperate at the mention of _her _name.

"She tried to kill herself, William. She swallowed a bunch of pills." She keeps her voice steady even though her insides are raging.

His eyes go wide and then scrunch shut. He moves to lay back down on the bed but she grabs his arm to try to keep him up. He wrenches it free and lays down on his side, turning away from her.

"William, get up! Didn't you hear what I said!? She tried to kill herself and she needs you!" Her voice rises an octave at his act of selfishness.

He pulls his legs up to his chest but gives no other response.

It pisses her off. She pushes his back hard and he jerks forward with her movement but otherwise, doesn't react. She moves around the bed and kneels, getting down to his eye level. His eyes are glassy and unfocused. She doesn't care. She smacks him across the face just hard enough to sting and his eyes snap up to meet hers. "Leave me alone."

"Leave you alone?! Are you a child?! Get up!" Her voice gets deadly calm. She's winning this battle.

"I...can't. She..." He looks away, bites his lip hard enough to taste blood. She smacks his face again and he drops it from between his teeth. His eyes are on her again.

"Yes, you can. She needs you. Do you want her to die? Is that it, William? Is that what you want?"

He stares at her for a long moment. His entire body starts to tremble and then he buries his face into his pillow and lets out a choked sob. She hasn't seen him cry this entire time and for a moment, she feels her eyes sting. She quickly pushes it away. It's not the time.

"William, get up." Her voice is quiet now. He's almost there.

He nods against the pillow but can't control his crying long enough to comply. She moves to sit on the bed with him. Rubs her hand up and down his arm in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. Nearly five minutes pass before the quiet cries have subsided and he's still on the bed. She gets up and retrieves a wet towel. Stoops, moves his head back, and washes the tears from his face and the blood from his lip. "Are you going to get up now?"

He nods and pushes himself up shakily. She tells him to get dressed and then waits outside the room for him. He's ready in a few minutes. Stands next to her wearing dark jeans and a dark sweatshirt. A beat up baseball hat pulled low over his eyes. He's hiding.

As long as he comes with her that's fine.

He follows her silently to her car. Sits silently the entire way to the hospital. He hesitates before getting out of the car but follows her to the entrance and through the winding hallways. Sue glances back at him. He keeps his eyes on the floor – his face hidden. A few people gasp as they walk by and Sue glares at them.

He's not a side show for people to gawk at.

They make it to the waiting room. The Glee kids look up at her when they see her but they don't seem to notice him. Apparently his disguise is some what effective.

It's Finn who notices him first. "Will? Will, you came." His voice is quiet, shocked. There is a collective gasp from the rest of the room's occupants as Finn stands and tries to move forward – maybe for a hug, maybe not.

Sue notices Will tense behind her and she puts her hand up to block Hudson, "Not yet. Give him a minute."

She doesn't anticipate Puck's sneak attack. He's up and his arms around Will in a blink of an eye. Will stands rigid, his face still turned downward to block the others out. Puck is squeezing him as tightly as possible but doesn't say anything. His shoulders are shaking and Sue knows that he is crying. She puts a hand on his shoulder, "Not yet, Puckerman. You need to let him go."

Surprisingly, he listens. He walks down the hallway towards the bathroom. His eyes are also on the ground in an attempt to hide his face. He doesn't want anyone to see the tears.

Quinn's mother approaches uneasily, "Mr. Schuester, I never got a chance to thank..."

Sue holds up her hand again. She doesn't want anyone to do anything that will make him flee. Her eyes automatically go to Emma. The woman is standing with her hands over her mouth. She looks like she's going to rush forward and pull a Puckerman at any moment. She turns back to Quinn's mom. "Can she see him? I think that's what is needed here."

"Yes, yes, of course." The woman's voice cracks because she knows it's true. She has seen Quinn's cell phone record – knows about the hundreds of text messages. She doesn't understand the relationship – Quinn hasn't told her much about her time in the basement but she's watched the news, heard the stories from the police. Her daughter needs to know that this man is there for her.

Sue turns to Will. He's trembling slightly, his eyes still on the ground. She stoops slightly to make eye contact and puts her hands on his face. His eyes turn up to look at her. "William, go in there and let her know that you're here. She needs to see you."

He complies surprisingly easily and Sue wonders if most of the reason is because he wants to be away from the stares in the waiting room.

"Was that really Mr. Schuester?" Mercedes asks quietly, "What's the matter with his mouth?"

Sue opens her mouth to speak but Finn interrupts her, "There is nothing wrong with his mouth." He folds his arms over his chest and glares, daring anyone else to say anything negative about the man. Everyone remains silent.

Sue smirks. She likes that kid.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Will enters the room as quietly as possible. Closes the door with a shaking hand. He turns and leans against the wall next to the door. He was hoping she'd be sleeping but as soon as the door closes, her eyes open and she's staring at him with tears running down her face.

"Mr. Schuester."

His eyes move from her to the person in the chair. Kurt is staring at him with a mix of shock and...something else. Anger maybe. He's not very good at reading people these days.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is wary.

Will bites his lip. Doesn't answer. He looks from Kurt to Quinn and back again. Maybe he'll understand – maybe he won't.

"No, no, no." Quinn cries from the bed, "You promised me that you wouldn't run away! You told me you wouldn't leave me!"

He bites his lip harder. Tenses. Gets ready to run.

Quinn apparently senses this, "Don't you dare!" She moves to stand and then Kurt is up instantly, pushing her back down on the bed.

"Mr. Schuester..."

"Will. Call him Will." Quinn whispers, her voice slightly more in control now. Will thanks her internally.

"_Will _then." Kurt bites out. Turns his head to stare at the man in the doorway. Repeats his earlier question with more force. "What are you doing here?"

"He's here for me." Quinn whispers and then squeezes Kurt's hand, "Give us a minute, okay?"

He sees in her face how much she wants this and so he turns and heads for the door. He stops next to Will and regards him for a moment even though he doesn't look back, "If you hurt her..."

"He would never." Quinn says forcefully and Kurt walks out the door. Dismissed.

She'll make it up to him later.

"You said you wouldn't run away." She repeats quietly. Holds out her hand. He doesn't move. Doesn't respond. "Will, I needed you. I need you."

He walks forward then. He can't say no to her when she has that look on her face even though he desperately wants to run away and hide somewhere dark and quiet. He doesn't take her hand but he sits on the chair Kurt vacated, teetering carefully on the end. She drops her hand.

"You texted me the other day." He nods when she pauses for an answer and she continues, "Why? Why are you here now?"

He swallows hard and bites his lip. It's starting to sting painfully. He focuses on that.

"Stop that." She says and her tone is hard. He drops his lip and turns his eyes up to look at her. Her skin has more color now than the last time he saw her but her eyes are sad. He swallows hard. "I'm sorry for..."

He shakes his head and she stops. He doesn't want to hear it. Doesn't want to think about anything that sorry could be in relation to. She holds her hand out again and reluctantly, he reaches out and takes it. He's supposed to be making her feel better. "Your hands are shaking. Are you afraid of me?"

He nods because he is. He's afraid of a lot of things. He runs his thumb along her knuckles and she gasps, sobs. It's a gesture she knows all too well. He creates a pattern on her skin and lets her cry for a long moment.

"I missed you so much." Her voice is shaky but her words are firm.

He clears his throat. Tries to say the same thing but can't. Why is everything so hard?

_Monster. Devil._

He pushes away the thoughts.

"I...I just..."

And it's too much. He looks her in the eye and pushes the words out. He's surprised at the strength of his voice, "Don't do this again."

She sobs at the sound of his voice but nods. "I'm sorry. I just...I couldn't deal with..."

"Don't do it again." He repeats and she nods firmly. They're quiet again for a few minutes. He continues the pattern on her hand. Turns it into a star with six points.

"I...you can't leave me again. Even if it's just a phone call. A text. I...I need you. I can't do this by myself."

He clears his throat again. The feel of his voice is still unfamiliar, "You aren't by yourself."

"I need _you._ Not anyone else...just you."

He nods even though he's not sure if he means it. He can text. He can do that.

Maybe.

A nurse comes in and Will jumps – dropping Quinn's hand. She pulls it close to her chest, cradling it. The feel of his hand is scorched into her skin. It warms her. "Visiting hours are over. She needs her rest."

Will nods and stands. Quinn reaches out and grabs his wrist tightly.

_Let me go, Quinn. _

_The sound of the thump of the gun on her skull._

He looks down at her – at her tear stained face and huge green eyes and he feels his resolve slip. He knows he shouldn't talk to her after what he did...after all of the mistakes he made. He'll taint her. Ruin her.

"I still have your jacket. I don't have it here...I couldn't, I mean..." She scrunches her eyes shut and starts over. "I still sleep with it at night. Do you still have..."

And at the hopeful look in her eyes he pushes his free hand into his pocket and pulls out the little gold cross that used to be hers but now lives in his pocket away from prying eyes. She smiles, tears threatening to spill. "Will you come back?"

He swallows hard, shakes his head. He can't. He can't come back here. He can't see her on that bed looking so fragile. He can't...tell her any of this.

She sobs and drops his wrist. He turns and walks to the door but stops with his hand on the handle. It would be so easy to walk away right now. So easy to push her away but he _can't _do that either. "Text me. I'll answer."

He doesn't look back at her but he hears her sigh with relief.

And then he's back in the overly bright hallway with what feels like a hundred sets of eyes staring at him even though he knows it's really only eight. He swallows hard and turns his back to them.

He turns his head slightly to look for Sue. She speaking to Quinn's mother but her eyes are on him. She pauses in her conversation, "Sit, William."

And so he does.

As far away from everyone as possible.

He can feel their eyes on him. He pulls up his hood and lowers his hat more in an attempt to hide but it's not working. He stands and moves down the hallway. Sue doesn't stop him but he has a feeling she's watching him. He walks to the end of the hallway and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. Yes, it's childish. He doesn't care. He just wants to go home.

It's close to ten miles back to his apartment but If Sue doesn't leave soon, he'll walk.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Emma watches him come out of Quinn's room. The only parts of his face that are readily visible are the tip of his nose, his bruised mouth, and his chin.

_You've got a little mustard in your cute Kirk Douglas chin dimple._

The memory springs up from no where and that is when it hits her. This is her Will.

This is _her _Will and he _needs _her.

She watches him sit apart from his kids. Watches the fallen looks on their faces as he all but ignores them He loved these kids. _Loves _these kids. He used to use her as a sounding board and she wants to be that for him again. She can help him get past this.

Her eyes follow his every move. Pulling up his hood. Adjusting his hat. Standing and walking past his kids and down the hallway. Their eyes follow him. They want him back too.

After a moment, she steels her nerves and follows him out. He slides down the wall and she pauses to pull the bottle of sanitizer out of her purse and clean her hands before sliding down too. She leaves a few inches between their bodies but she's close enough to register the heat coming off of him and the sound of his breathing. He smells the same. His shoes are the same. His hands are the same. She recognizes his jeans and the way he sits with his long legs stretched out at the knees. This_ is_ her Will.

He startles, obviously not expecting anyone to follow him. She catches the briefest of glances of his green eyes as he turns his head to see who is with him.

His entire body tenses. He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to see her.

She apparently isn't very good at reading people either. She doesn't move away.

"Will. I've...I've been meaning to – no, that's not right." She rambles nervously. Stops and starts again. "I've tried calling but I guess you aren't answering the phone these days. And I stopped by while you were here after...well...but the police officer at your door said that I couldn't visit because of the investigation."

He doesn't respond. Can't. He closes his eyes and silently prays for her to get up and walk away.

She doesn't.

"I...I broke up with Carl."

She says it very quietly. He doesn't know what she wants from him. Doesn't ask.

"I...he...he wasn't you. He didn't understand...after I heard about you in July, I just...I couldn't even breathe most of the time. I..."

_You're a slut, Will. You're a slut. You're a slut. You're a slut and I'm through with you._

_I'll make it good for you. I'll do whatever you want._

_Lay down. Good-boy. Dirty boy._

_I have a problem with the messy things._

_His hands are drenched in red. Sticky and atained._

He closes his eyes tightly. Wills his mind to stay here but things are becoming fuzzy. He doesn't want to black out in front of her. He digs his fingers into his thighs. Bites down hard on his lip. He can taste copper. Focuses on that.

"I want to go back, Will. I know we can't but I'd like to talk to you and be there for you."

Six months ago that was the only thing he wanted. Six months ago he wasn't ruined.

_Monster. Devil._

She stares at what she can see of the side of his face. He's uncomfortable but that's not surprising in someone who went through what he went through. She's a counselor. She can help him through this. She's trained to help people through these things.

"We can set up a meeting if you want. I could come to your house if you aren't ready to leave just yet. We could talk or maybe just spend a little time together as friends. I want so desperately to be your friend again. I miss you."

_I miss you too. _The words don't come. He knows they shouldn't. He'll_ taint _her, _hurt_ her. That's what he does. And all of a sudden he needs her to leave. He doesn't want to soil her. She can't handle dirty things and he's _filthy._

He drops his head even more and works up his nerve to speak. Tries to make his voice sound hard even though he feels as though he's going to snap in two at any moment.

_Every time you speak, someone will get hurt!_

"Do you like me now?"

"What?" She startles. The question comes out of no where and she isn't sure what he means.

"Do you like me now? Now that I have to shower four times a day to feel clean? Now that I have to douse my apartment in bleach? Do you like me now? Am I good enough now?" He keeps his voice very quiet. It's easier to disguise the trembling if he's quiet.

"Will." Her own voice is desperate. Pleading.

"You want a meeting? So you can hear the grizzly details? Do you want to hear..." His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat, "Do you want to hear how he fucked me? On a dirty mattress in a dirty basement with his dirty hands and his dirty..." His voice cracks again and he feels his eyes sting and his chest constrict as he listens to her cry. She still doesn't move away. He needs to make her leave. "Do you want to hear how I didn't fight? Do you want to hear how I laid there and took it? Again and again and again. You were right. I'm a slut."

"Will." She's sobbing. She can hardly get his name out. Good. He stands. If she won't go away, he will and he hopes his words hurt enough so that she won't follow. He takes a step and sees her move after him out of the corner of his eye.

Son of a bitch.

He turns towards her but keeps his face hidden. His voice quiet. "What do you want from me? I'm a slut. I'm dirty. Filthy. Vile. I've done things..."

"I know you're not a slut. I was angry when I said..."

He takes a step back. She follows.

He takes a step forward and she takes a step back. He smacks his hand against the wall next to her head and leaves it there, pinning her in place. Her only escape is back to the waiting room. He can't see her face. He pulls off his hood so he can see her better but keeps the hat on so she can't see him. He can't let her see the tears in his eyes.

"William, what are you doing?" Sue asks from the waiting room. Her voice loud enough to carry to his ears. There is a sense of fear in her tone. She's afraid of what he'll do. Emma is shaking. She's afraid too.

Good.

He ignores Sue. He's too focused.

He whispers. His words only for Emma. "Maybe you've changed too. Maybe the dentist was too clean. Maybe you like dirty. Maybe you'd like to fuck me too..."

She slaps him across the face. Hard. The blood from his lip sprays on the floor and his hat flies somewhere behind him.

_Monster. Devil._

She stares at him wide-eyed. This is not _her_ Will. This is some sort of _monster_. He doesn't move his arm away when she slaps him but he spits blood and she desperately wants to run away and take a shower even though none of it has touched her.

"You're awful." She stammers and his eyes drift upwards for a split second before he lowers them away from her again but it's too late. She's seen the tears. The hurt. The self-hatred. The desperation. And she knows. She _just _knows. He's trying to push her away. He's trying to protect her from...himself.

She's made a horrible mistake. Another horrible mistake.

"Will. Oh Will. I'm so sorry." She reaches out to him but he jerks back as if he's been burned.

"William, don't!" Sue calls but it's too late. He's already running down the hallway and towards the exit as fast as his legs will take him.


	31. Chapter 31

**Many apologies for the delay in this! Classes are done for now (yay!) so I'm all yours. :)**

**Thank you all so much for reading. Extra special thanks for all you reviewers and message senders! I really appreciate the suggestions/feedback! **

*** … * … * … * … * … * … ***

**August 27th**

Rachel carefully applies a layer of glue on each of the dozen missing posters laid out on the floor in front of her. Finn is coming to her house and then they're going to go around hanging the poster boards up anywhere they will be easily seen. This is the fifth time they've done this.

It _has_ to pay off.

Mr. Schue and Quinn have been missing for more than a month with no word on their whereabouts. There have been people on the news claiming to have spotted them all around the United States but none of the claims have panned out. Some people have been using their disappearance as a way to get famous. As a way to get money. There was a photo on the Nancy Grace show of a man in Kentucky that looked so much like Mr. Schue that Rachel thought that they had actually found him. The man was even telling people that his name was William.

Turns out he was 28-year-old postal worker who curled and dyed his hair, put in contacts, and had his girlfriend take his picture so he could get on the news.

It's funny how a tragedy can bring out the liars and the fools.

Finn is late. Finn is always late these days. Rachel can't fault him really. He's been so depressed that it's hard for him to get out of bed. Her own sadness has had the opposite effect. She's been up every morning at 5 am making posters or bringing coffee to the rescue searchers or working on Glee arrangements for Mr. Schue. He's been missing so long that when he_ is_ finally found, he'll be so far behind that he'll truly appreciate all of her hard work in helping him with the club.

She's even been to Quinn's house to clean her room and get her supplies organized for the start of the new school year. . She had baked cookies for Quinn's mother and even though the woman didn't eat any, Rachel thinks she probably appreciated the thought.

She flips on the TV and begins applying the photos of Mr. Schue, Quinn, and the missing nine-year-old Rebecca to each of the posters. The breaking news bulletin flashes across the screen. Rachel doesn't look up. The breaking news bulletin is always flashing across the screen these days.

"Breaking news out of Lima Ohio today where police have announced that the missing person's case involving kidnapped McKinley High Spanish teacher William Schuester, seventeen-year-old Quinn Fabray and nine-year-old Rebecca Fergusson has officially been reclassified from a kidnapping investigation to a homicide investigation."

Rachel's eyes shoot up to the screen. Her hand bumps the glue bottle and it spills across her carpet.

"Police have announced that they have located several articles of blood-stained clothing that is believed to be the clothing Schuester was last seen wearing on the day he and Fabray were allegedly kidnapped from a local Target by the Daylight Killer. The clothing was located several days ago near a laundromat on West Main street. The DNA on the clothing is a match for Schuester and police claim that they believe that the amount of blood found on the clothing is indicative of a murder."

Mr. Schuester is dead. Mr. Schuester is _dead. _

Rachel feels as though she's in a bad movie. This isn't how things were supposed to happen. Glee has another year. They were given another year. They were going to win Regionals. They were going to win Nationals.

Mr. Schuester can't be dead.

The reporter is still talking but she can't listen to it anymore. She turns off the TV and then her hands go up to her mouth in shock. Finn is coming over. He's in his car on his way over. He doesn't know yet.

She sits on the floor, hands covering her mouth, trying to think of a way to tell him. He'll be crushed.

Mr. Schuester is dead.

Which means Quinn is probably dead too.

She hears a knock on the door but doesn't get up to answer it. She can't do this.

There are footsteps on the stairs. He let himself in. She _can't _do this.

"Hey, Rach. Are we going..." He pauses as he takes in the scene before him – Rachel's shocked, pale face. The spilled glue seeping into the carpet. His eyebrows scrunch together in concern, "What is it?"

"Finn..." She's crying now. She can't stop. He's looking at her with pleading eyes and she can't contain herself. "He's dead, Finn. They found his clothes. He's dead. She's dead. They're all dead."

The words burst out of her throat and hang in the air.

Finn stares at her for the longest time. She stands to go to him but he holds his hand up to stop her, "He's not dead. His clothes aren't him. Aren't them."

"Finn, they said there was so much blood..." She pleads. Stops and starts again, "They're gone."

"No. Stop saying it. I can feel it, Rachel. I...they're going to be fine. I'm not going to stop looking. I'm not going to give up on them. If you want to quit that's fine but I...I'm not. I'll get Puck or Kurt to help me."

She expected tears but there is a look of strong-willed determination on his face. She knows there is no point but she nods anyway. Together they kneel on her floor to gather the missing posters.

He's dead. She's dead.

This is hopeless.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn sits in stunned silence staring at the TV. They've given up. The police aren't looking for them anymore. No one is looking for them anymore.

They're looking for bodies if they're looking at all.

Her mother thinks she's dead now. Her father thinks she's dead now. Her friends think she's dead now.

She feels hollow. Empty.

Behind her Will is trying to teach Becky his "Ice Ice Baby" dance. Becky is laughing. Will is laughing. Quinn wants to cry.

Will refuses to watch the news. He says that it's pointless and depressing but she knows he just doesn't like to see the look of sadness on everyone's faces. Doesn't like to see the tears. He blames himself for their pain. Quinn can understand that. She's had those feelings too. Now...now she just hates everyone. Hates them for giving up on her. Hates them for not trying hard enough.

Behind her Becky giggles at something Will does . He's rapping along to his dance moves but he's completely out of breath. He did this exact same dance a few months ago with no problem. He pretends but he still hasn't regained his strength after Monster's abuse. He's lost weight since they've been here. His pants are too loose and hang lower on his waist than they had before. She's lost weight too. Her baby weight is gone now and her dresses lay flat against her stomach again. Too much soup, not enough solid food. A perfect diet. She wanted so badly to be thin again - she should be happy.

She's not.

Monster hasn't been back in a almost a week. She should be happy about that too.

She's not.

He's out there and they're in here. He has all of the power. He could come down here and shoot them all at any moment and it wouldn't matter because they're already supposed to be dead.

No one else would know any differently. They'd find the bodies in a few weeks. Months. Monster will kidnap someone else and everyone will move on and forget about them.

Becky laughs again and Quinn wipes her tears as she turns her head around to see why. Will does a pretty impressive back flip and Becky erupts into giggles as she attempts to mimic his moves. He's not at his full strength but he's a lot stronger than he was a week ago...they need to act now. They need to get out of here now before it's too late.

"Will?"

He doesn't hear her over Becky's giggling. Becky doesn't hear her either.

She can't do this right now anyway.

It's almost Becky's bed time. She'll wait until they're alone to speak to him. She uses the bathroom and lays down in bed. She feels Will's eyes on her and she turns her head to look at him. She offers a small smile even though it almost physically hurts her to do so because she doesn't want to worry him yet. He returns her smile briefly and then turns his attention back to Becky.

She closes her eyes and must fall asleep because when she opens them again, Becky is sound asleep and Will is crawling into bed next to her with damp hair. He smells clean and he's so warm that she can't help snuggling up next to him, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Feeling okay?"

She wants to say no but, she doesn't feel sick or hurt so she settles on the easy answer. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He kisses the top of her head and inhales deeply. Quinn can tell that he's tired. She needs to tell him about the news report but can't find the courage. She remains silent for a long while trying to muster up the nerve to speak, ""If you could travel to any place in the world right now, where would you go?"

Not what she meant to say but it's a start.

Quinn's voice startles Will out of his almost-sleep. He's exhausted. Too much exercise after a month of almost none. Too much, too fast.

_Too much. Too fast. Too much. Too fast._

_The feel of Emma's mouth on his own. The feel of Emma's hands as she pushes him off of her._

_You're a slut._

"Will?"

"Huh?" He startles again and looks down at her worried face. It's harder to focus when he's tired and he's beyond tired. He diverts back to the question to stop her from asking what is wrong, "um. Somewhere hot. Somewhere with water. Hawaii maybe."

She eyes him warily before she snuggles tightly against his side. "What's your favorite sport?"

"Soccer."

His voice is very quiet and Quinn nudges him to keep him awake. She's too riled up to sleep and doesn't want to be alone. She needs to tell him about the press conference but she _can't_ say the words out loud yet.

She feels isolated and alone.

"Shoe size?" He doesn't answer and she nudges him again and repeats herself.

"Eleven and a half." He answers. His voice is a groggy whisper.

"What were you like in high school?" She runs her fingers up his side and when he doesn't twitch she knows he's fallen asleep. She shakes him awake again.

"Quinn." He draws her name out in a long whine and she feels bad for waking him up but only momentarily. He can sleep as late as he wants to the next day. She needs to talk to him. Needs him to understand.

"What were you like in high school?"

"I don't know!" His voice is huffy. Frustrated. He can't help it. He wants to sleep.

She kisses his side and repeats the question.

"I was a Glee kid."

"Did you have a lot of friends?"

He whines again and it almost sounds like a cry of frustration. She looks up at him and his eyes are tired and slightly unfocused. She repeats the question.

"I don't know. I guess. I played sports and stuff. I was in a lot of clubs. I liked to be at school."

"Did you have good grades?"

"Mostly. I had a lot of AP classes so it was hard." There is a tone to his answer and she focuses on that to keep him speaking.

"Did you ever fail a class?"

"I don't want to play the question game right now." He whines again. He knows that it's childish but he's so tired that his head feels like its under water.

"Just talk to me for a minute." She almost begs and he can't say no. "Ever fail a class?"

"No. Not a whole class. I failed a semester of math Junior year. It's the only time I had anything less than a B."

"Why'd you fail?"

"It was a bad year."

"Why?"

"Quinn!" He debates pushing her away and going to the couch. He doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to talk at all. He wants to sleep. He doesn't want to sleep by himself though so he stays.

Childish indeed.

"Answer the question first." She knows he's getting angry but she pushes anyway. If she can goad him into a small argument, she can keep him awake with her. Can work up the nerve to discuss what they really need to discuss.

"I failed because I cheated. I cheated because I didn't have time to study. I didn't have time to study because my drunk mom beat the crap out of me and threw my books into the fireplace a few days before hand." He doesn't tell her the whole story. He's never told anyone the whole story. He doesn't tell her about his not-quite-almost swan dive off of the school roof to avoid facing his mother. He doesn't tell her about how his dad took him out for ice cream after the trip to the ER. He still doesn't understand that one. Instead he groans and adds an angry, "Now let me sleep!"

He rolls over onto his side, facing away from her, and she's forced to move her head off his chest. She lays down behind him but doesn't touch him. She didn't mean to push him so far. Didn't realize it would be a sore spot for him. She doesn't push him to continue but she still needs to speak to him about the press conference.

They're silent again for a while before she feels compelled to break it. "I hated school last year. It was so hard with everyone judging me. Laughing at me. I didn't let my grades slip though. At least I can say that."

His voice is hard - he's angry with her, but he keeps his words soft. He doesn't want to hurt her. "I think you are your own worst judge, Quinn."

She supposes that's true but it doesn't make the memories of the stares and snickers any easier.

"I'm sorry I pushed. I don't know why I do that. I'm...I'm just lonely I guess." Lies. She says it quietly but he's heard her. He nods and she snuggles against his back, spooning him from behind.

He lets her.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" She whispers it against his damp hair. She isn't sure he'll answer but she's feeling so down, she needs to know. Hearing something positive about her looks always makes her feel better. His mother beat him physically. Her mother beat her emotionally. _You're nothing if you're not pretty._

He doesn't respond for a long while but she can tell he's awake by the pattern of his breathing. She's about to tell him that he doesn't have to answer when she feels him shift slightly, "Yes. I think you're beautiful. Inside and out."

She sighs. Feels slightly better. She kisses an unmarred patch of skin on his bare back and squeezes him tightly. The whip wounds criss-crossing his back, staring her in the face, remind her of their main problem. "We need to get out of here."

"I know." His voice is breathy and quiet. He's falling asleep again.

She moves away and pushes him back onto his back.

He lets her do that too.

She looks at his face, strokes the stubble on his jaw until his eyes pop open groggily. "We really need to get out of here. They...the police...everyone thinks we're..." She pauses. Swallows hard. Finally finds the nerve. "They think we're dead. They aren't looking for us anymore."

He stares at her. She expected tears or anger. She expected _something_ but he's blank, totally devoid of reaction. "I told you not to watch the news, Quinn."

"I have to. I..." She feels tears form in her eyes. She wonders what her mother is doing right now. Wonders if her father cares that she's dead. Thinks about Beth and how she'll never see her again.

"Quinn." His voice is still empty but he reaches up and touches her face gently. His hand is warm against her cold cheek and she leans into the heat. "We'll get out of here. You'll see everyone again." He can tell she wants to talk about it. He doesn't but he can't deny her, "Why do they think we're dead?"

She takes a shuddering breath. Waits for the tears to subside before she speaks again, "They found some of your clothes with your blood on them in town. He must have put them there to throw off the cops."

Monster took his clothes. He beat him. Raped him. Made him bleed. Made him change his clothes.

He planned it.

Will feels sick. His mind wanders again and he lets it. He wonders if Quinn has made the connection. Wonders if the cops also found Monster's DNA on his clothes. Wonders if they announced that to the town. Wonders if everyone knows how Monster used him. Raped him. Fucked him.

_You're a slut. You're a slut. You're a slut._

"We're not getting out of here unless we work out a plan. I was thinking about it and the only way to beat him is for you to overpower him."

He startles at the sound of her voice. Closes his eyes again – this time to avoid her gaze, "I don't see that happening."

"Yes, listen. You just need to get your strength up. Work out a bit to build it up and then use your belt like he used his." He swallows hard at the mention of the beatings but she continues, "Wait til he's not expecting it and then hit him hard...across the eyes maybe. So he can't see."

"That's..." he searches his vocabulary for an appropriate adjective but can't find one in his muddled brain. He settles on crass, "That's fucked up, Quinn. I can't hit someone in the face with a belt."

She shakes him until he opens his eyes again, "You have to. You have to because I can't and Becky certainly can't and it's the only way. It's the only way to get the gun from him. If he can't see, he can't shoot us."

He swallows hard again, "I...okay. We'll...I'll start exercising again tomorrow. I'll do whatever you want me to. Can I sleep now?"

She turns away from him. She still wants to talk but she feels like a bitch keeping him awake and she doesn't want him to think that's what she is. She settles back down with her head on his chest and watches Becky's even breaths beneath her blanket. Wishes she could be that innocent too.

"Will?" He doesn't answer but she knows he's not asleep. She turns her eyes up to him. He's looking at the ceiling, biting his lip, trying not to cry. "What is it?"

"I..." His voice cracks. He pauses and when he starts again, he is once again empty of emotion. "Everyone knows."

"Everyone knows what?" She sits up. Brings her hands to his face and forces him to look at her. Their eyes connect for a long moment before he turns on his side again to face the wall.

"They have my shirt. They have my DNA. They must have his DNA too." His voice is barely a whisper. She isn't entirely sure what he's referring to but the idea that the cops might have Monster's DNA is uplifting her spirits a little.

"I don't..."

_You're a slut._

"He fucked me, Quinn. It got on my clothes. He...it was on my clothes."

_You're a slut. You're a slut. You're a slut. Everyone should know._

_Everyone does know._

Quinn is shocked into silence for a moment. He's never admitted it out loud to her. Never spoken about it at all. She lays down behind him and wraps her arm around his waist. She pushed him too hard. He would never have admitted what Monster did if she hadn't made him angry beforehand.

She feels like scum.

She squeezes his waist and kisses the back of his head. He's always the strong one for her. She needed him and now he needs her. "Will, it's okay. We're going to get through this. You and me and Becky. They didn't say anything on the news about finding his DNA. No one knows anything." It's silent for a long time and she feels compelled to break it again, "I love you, Will. I love you so much. You could never do anything that would make me feel less about you. Do you understand?"

He inhales deeply and for a second she thinks he may say it back. She wants desperately for him to say it back. He doesn't. His voice is blank again. "I just want to sleep, Quinn."

She hides her disappointment with a kiss to his shoulder. Snuggles up tightly against his back and interlaces their fingers over his stomach. He squeezes her hand back slightly when she squeezes his.

It's something.

When she startles awake a few hours later, it is to the sound of Monster laughing loudly on the stairs.


	32. Chapter 32

**Quinn and Puck are...Quick? I dunno.**

**Not rated R (although there is some colorful language). Enjoy.**

*** … * … * … * … * … * … * … ***

There are too many nurses milling about the hallway. Not unusual activity for a hospital but annoying none-the-less. It's past visiting hours. Well past visiting hours actually but Puck is still sitting in the waiting room, biding his time until he can sneak unseen into Quinn's room.

Fuck hospitals.

Fuck visiting hours.

Everyone else is gone. Kurt, Finn, and Coach Sylvester left to find Mr. Schuester after he ran off. Pillsbury took off mumbling about a shower or some shit. Mercedes went home to sleep. Quinn's mom and sister went home too after the doctor told them Quinn would probably sleep for the rest of the night. Her dad never showed up.

Asshole.

Puck feels slightly bad for not helping to find Mr. Schue. He found him once...minutes from death, laying on the side of the road like garbage. He held his hand until the paramedics had shown up. He rode with him in the ambulance as he fought through some sort of seizure. Besides giving up Beth, that was probably the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Mr. Schue was the only man in Puck's life who ever gave a damn - who ever asked how his day was or if he needed help with homework. It was Mr. Schue who taught him how to tie a tie and gave him the confidence to join Glee club. So watching the paramedics hold him down in the ambulance as he thrashed back and forth and choked on his own blood...well, Puck didn't sleep for days afterward.

He still has nightmares about it.

He was sitting in the waiting room trying to find out information on Mr. Schue when the report came on the TV that they had found Quinn too. The reporter had no information beyond the fact that both she and Schue were alive. Puck wanted to punch his face. Wanted to punch the faces of the paramedics and the doctors.

Fuck them all.

Still fuck them all.

The nurses won't leave. He's a patient man though. They keep eyeballing him like he's up to something. He is. Good luck to them trying to prove it.

When they had brought Quinn into the hospital in the beginning of October, he was there. He had tucked himself away in a alcove in the ambulance bay so he could catch a glimpse of her. He had to peer around the paramedics but he was able to see her. Her overly pale face, the giant purple bruise covering most of her forehead, the blood staining her matted blonde hair. As soon as his eyes landed on her, he wanted to destroy something. He wanted to destroy someone. He wanted to find that pervert, rip his spine out, and choke him with it.

He settled on punching the wall.

That was the last time he had seen her until she entered the school a few weeks later. He couldn't visit her in the hospital. Couldn't see her like that without wanting to kill someone. When he saw her for the first time at school all he wanted to do was tell her to leave. To go home. It was too soon.

Maybe if he had, this wouldn't have happened.

He swallows back the guilt. The nurses are moving down the hallway to check on a patient. He sees his chance and leaps up, rushes silently across the waiting room and down the short distance to her room, slips inside.

It's dark except for a small fluorescent light and the glow from the heart-rate monitor. Her hair forms a golden halo around her head. His very own angel. The mother of his child. The girl who he has loved despite himself for the better part of a year. She's laying on the bed, broken, and there is nothing he can do. She looks so small. So fragile.

A strangled sob escapes his mouth before he can clamp his lips shut tightly. Puckzilla doesn't cry. Maybe this is the real reason he couldn't bring himself to see her in the past month. Maybe he knew he couldn't be in the same room as her without breaking down. Maybe the urge to cry sometimes overwhelms the urge to hurt.

Right now he wants to cry _and_ hurt something.

He moves into the room and perches on the chair by the bed. Reaches out carefully and holds her small, cold hand in his. He sobs again. Bites it back and rubs away the tears with his free hand.

He sits like that for a long while. Hours perhaps. He vaguely wonders where the hell the nurses are and if he wasn't breaking hospital rules, he'd be tempted to scream at all of them for not checking on her more often. He's lost in thought so when Quinn's hand twitches against his own, he startles and has to catch his bearings before he realizes that her big green eyes are focused on his face.

"Puck? What are you doing here?"

He swallows hard. Just the sound of her tired voice, a voice he hasn't heard in months except for in his dreams, is almost enough to break his resolve and send the tears streaming down his face. He blinks rapidly and covers with snark, "Oh, you know...I was in the neighborhood."

She stares at him for a long moment before a small smirk spreads across her face. "I missed you too."

Puck nods. Squeezes her hand. He can't say anything. He can't move.

She senses his discomfort and squeezes his hand in return. "I saw you sing for me on TV while I was..." She pauses, scrunches up her nose, and then continues,. "I saw you at one of those vigils...you sang "Beth" for me again. I really, really..." She stops, starts again, "It was beautiful."

He nods again. Can't hold the tears back anymore as they stream down his face, "I missed you so much, Quinn. It was hell – knowing you were out there somewhere and I couldn't do anything to find you. God damn, I just...I knew you weren't gone like the cops had said but...fuck." He knows he isn't making much sense but he's not good with words and feelings. He thinks maybe she knows what he means anyway.

She smiles sadly. Recalls the memory of the press conference and the cops announcing that they were calling off the search. That was the night Will admitted what Monster had done to him. That was the first night that Monster really brought Becky into it while terrorizing them. That was the night they had ended up sitting outside under the moon – Becky snuggled next to her side, Will's head in her lap, Monster sitting across from them holding the ever-present gun to keep them in line.

Puck had known she was alive. That they were alive. She had been so upset that everyone thought she was dead...they didn't.

She sniffles, tries to smile, "Thank you for believing in me."

"I will always believe in you, Quinn."

They stare at each other, eyes locked, for a long moment. Quinn normally feels her skin crawl whenever anyone makes eye contact with her for too long. She pictures Monster's dark eyes boring into her. Staring her down. Hurting her.

Not with Puck.

His gaze is intense but she doesn't feel threatened.

She scoots to her left a little, making room on the bed for his tall frame. "Lay with me for a minute? Just hold me?"

He gets up silently and lays next to her. Wraps his strong arm around her thin waist and holds her tightly to his chest. For a moment it's Puck laying next to her. Puck's cologne she smells. Puck's muscled arm holding her tight.

But then she closes her eyes.

She tries to remain focused but as she feels herself falling back to sleep, it's Will's curly hair soft against her cheek. Will's warm breath against her neck. Will's arm draped across her waist, hugging her close.

It's the first time in almost two months that she sleeps peacefully.

A nurse with horn-rimmed glasses enters the room a couple of hours later to find the two snuggled on the cramped hospital bed. She checks her vital signs and then leaves without a word. The girl on the bed looks peaceful.

That girl needs some peace in her life.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Will doesn't want to go home.

To his credit, he made it about three miles before the aching in his chest and legs and the throbbing in his head forced him to stop running. Now he's walking along the wood line, his hood pulled up to hide his face, heading towards...he doesn't know.

He can't go home.

He wants to be alone and that's the first place anyone will look for him. Sue or Emma or Finn. It's probably the only place they will look since he has no place else to go.

His face still stings where Emma smacked him. He hopes there is a bruise. A memento of her anger and fear.

He hears voices – a lot of voices – and moves further into the shadows. There are lights in the distance...and people – a lot of people. He looks around in order to judge where he wandered to – Main street. He's near the coffee shop, almost to the library.

The lights are candles.

It's Becky and Brittany's birthday. They're doing a vigil. A remembrance. He suddenly feels very unworthy. He walks down the alley behind the coffee shop and sits with his back leaning against the building. The cold ground forms knots in the muscles of his tired legs. He listens to the voices. They seem to be just wrapping things up – it's late, nearly nine o'clock.

_Becky should be in bed. He wonders if Quinn put Becky to bed yet._

He looks up and the image playing in the front of his mind – Becky laughing before bed, Quinn saying her prayers - vanishes and is replaced by an overflowing dumpster. He's in the alley. He isn't in the basement. The basement is gone. Becky is gone. Quinn is...not gone.

But she should be.

And he should be too.

The slowly fading number twelve carved into his back picks that moment to start throbbing dully.

He wants to be sick.

He hugs his knees to his chest and listens as a priest says the final prayer. He wonders if they'll do this again next year. He hopes so. Becky and Brittany both need to be remembered. The prayer is nice. He recognizes it as something Quinn has recited a few times. After the prayer, a song – Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

He sang that to both girls at one time or another. In Glee Club. In a dirty basement.

He swallows hard. They should have picked a different song. Something without a connection to him. He wants to tell them that. Rush forward and have them start again with something different. With something not ruined.

He doesn't.

He recognizes Rachel's voice harmonizing above the others.

He pulls himself more fully into the shadow of the building – hides. She has no reason to come into the dirty alley – no one does - but he feels exposed.

He hears crying over the singing. It's quiet but it's close. _Shit_. He stays still. Doesn't move.

It gets closer...and then Santana enters his field of vision. She's sobbing into her hands. Walking alone back the way he came a little while ago. Six months ago he would have rushed to her to ask her what was wrong. Six months ago he would have offered comfort.

Now he stays sitting amongst the trash strewed along the ground and hopes that she doesn't notice him.

The heel of her too-high-high-heels snaps and she tumbles to the pavement, her hip smacking into the concrete. He bites his lip hard and sits on his hands. Pulls his legs closer to his body as she sobs on the ground.

He wants to make sure she's okay.

He doesn't.

He wants her to leave.

She doesn't.

The singing has stopped. He hears cars in the distance and knows people are leaving. The vigil is over. Two hours dedicated to two dead girls. That's enough for them - the people who didn't know them; The people who aren't responsible for their deaths.

"Pervert! What the fuck are you doing?! Trying to sneak a peek up my skirt?!" Santana hisses through her tears.

_Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Shit._

_Run away. _

She hasn't seen his face. She doesn't know who he is. Just some pervert in a dark alley.

His muscles tense to flee but she's already up and limping towards him. She wants to hurt someone. He can understand that.

Her broken shoe smacks him in the shoulder and falls to the ground with a muted thump.

"Why would you come to a little girl's memorial? Scoping bait!? Want to get them straight off the elementary bus?!"

_Gross. She has quite the mouth._

He stays still because she's blocking his path. Moves his arms up to keep his face hidden.

"Hey, scumbag! I'm talking to you!" Her voice is low but angry. She doesn't want to be seen either. "Maybe you aren't a pervert then, maybe a druggie or a drunk taking a nap in the alley. Pathetic."

_Not quite but half-right._

She smacks him upside the head and must see...something...because then she's on her knees in front of him trying to pry his head from its place hidden against his arms and knees. She pulls his hood off roughly. She's desperate and after a moment it becomes too much and he lifts his eyes slightly to meet her face.

She sobs again as she recognizes his eyes.

"What are _you _doing here?!" She sits back on her heels and he hides his face again. He just wants her to move so he can go but the angle of her body keeps him pinned to the wall. Unless he steps over her, he can't get by.

She's silent for a long time. Her cries prevent her from speaking. He chances a glance and she's hiding her face too. Her body pulled into a similar position to his own.

_So much for being alone._

"Did she...did she suffer? When that shit face shot her...did she..." She whispers, voice barely loud enough to reach his ears.

_Brittany. Did Brittany suffer? She died instantly. She had no idea what was about to happen._

His head reflexively raises at the desperation in her voice and their eyes meet. He shakes his head slightly but apparently it's enough and she's sobbing again. He wonders if she has been drinking – she smells like peppermint Schnapps.

The silence stretches, interrupted only by the sounds of the passing cars. She moves so that she's sitting next to him against the wall, their shoulders touching slightly.

He wants to move away but doesn't.

She's wearing black jeans and a light jacket – also black. They match – dressed in black and hiding in a dirty alley. Maybe there is something behind that. Maybe her insides feel like they're being set on fire too. Set on fire and then doused in ice water.

And then soaked with chemical cleanser.

The smell of lemons pulls at his memory and he squeezes his eyes tight to push it away. The smell of garbage replaces it.

"Will! Can you hear us!? Will?" Someone is frantically screaming his name. Finn maybe. They're looking for him. Calling for him like a lost dog. He presses his back against the wall and Santana, shockingly, reaches up and squeezes his arm before she pulls off her other shoe and stands.

_She's going to rat him out._

His breath quickens. He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to see the looks on their faces. He doesn't want to face the hurt in their eyes.

Santana moves and he watches her go. He can just barely make out their voices. Strains to hear them clearly. He pulls himself to his feet and gets ready to run.

"What are you doing here, Pork Rind?" Santana.

"Santana, fuck off. You've done enough!" An angry Kurt.

"Oh, yeah. What have I done?" Santana. Sassy Santana. She counters anger with attitude.

"She tried to kill herself because of you!" Kurt screams.

"Don't you care!? Why are you such a bitch?" Finn. His voice is desperate, not angry.

The three are silent for a second. Will hears the footsteps getting closer and presses as far into the shadows as he can. Pulls his hood back up. They'll see him now if he runs.

"Stop! She tried to kill herself? I didn't mean for her..."

"Shut it, Santana." Kurt. His voice is close, "This isn't the first time you've been cruel to her. I was there after that time in the hallway! I heard what you said before she collapsed in tears on the choir room floor!"

"What did she say?" Finn. His voice is quiet but close enough to hear. They're maybe ten feet away. If he steps out from behind the the slight swell of pipes to his right, they'll see him. He doesn't move.

"She told Quinn she liked it when he raped her. Said she liked watching Mr. Schue get raped."

_Dirty mouth indeed._

That revelation should bother him more than it does but it's like they're referencing a different person. Mr. Schue. Mr. Schue is dead and all that's left behind is dirty Will. Soiled Will.

Will the Monster.

Santana's voice cracks, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean for her to hurt herself. I was angry. I am angry. Everyone wants to help Quinn. She gets..."

"Seriously. Santana, we're kind of busy right now. We don't have time for your shit. If you are actually sorry, go apologize but I warn you, if you say anything cruel again..."

"Oh, shut it, Hobbit." Her voice is strong again. Attitude back in place. "What are you doing down here, anyway?"

"We're looking for Mr. Schue." Finn says. Desperation back. Will bites his lip at the tone.

"Yeah, well, I've been here for hours. He ain't here."

"How can you be so sure?" Finn.

"I'm sure if he were, there would be some sort of parade or something. Like the town hero returning from war or some shit."

_Not quite. More like town pariah coming home to meet an angry pitch-fork wielding mob._

There is silence for another long moment and he imagines they are staring at each other, trying to decide who will make the first move.

"Come on, Kurt. We should maybe check the other way. I don't think he would have come near so many people."

And then the footsteps are heading in the opposite direction. Santana appears again a minute or two later. He tilts his head up just enough to regard her. She gets into his space and pulls his hood off again. They lock eyes for a long moment. He sees the apology in her eyes but doesn't want to hear it. Maybe she's the reason Quinn is in the hospital now. He's the reason she was in there the last time. He can't judge her. He has no right to.

He knows she won't hurt Quinn again. He can see it in her face. That's enough.

She sniffles. Her face is soft, attitude gone. He's never seen that expression on her face before. "I like this look on you." Her fingers just barely brush his hair line, "The waves are nice. The curls were too Justin Timberlake."

_She's teasing._

His hair is just long enough now to start to curl on the ends. He'll have to shave it again. It reminds him too much of _him._

She doesn't say sorry. Maybe there is something on his face that lets her know he doesn't want it. She leans next to him again. "Why are they looking for you?"

_Because I'm an asshole._

"Not talking, huh?" She nudges his shoulder with her own. "That's fine. I don't feel much like talking either. Do you want a lift home?"

He shakes his head. Sue will no doubt be there waiting for him. If he's lucky it will be Sue anyway. He's not so it'll probably be Emma. Or an Emma and Sue tag team.

_Scary._

"I don't want to just leave you here. I mean, I'm a bitch and all but it's cold and well, I'm not _that _much of a bitch."

He eyes her warily and shrugs. After the hospital, he's drained. He just can't bring himself to push anyone else away right now. He hopes she gets the hint and leaves on her own.

"Fine. I'll be right back."

And then she's gone and he's sliding back down the building to sit on the cold pavement. He could leave but he's not sure what she means by "right back" and he doesn't want her to catch him walking away.

She's back maybe five minutes later with a plastic bag slung around her wrist and a gas station coffee in each hand. She sits next to him silently and hands him a cup and a sandwich. He can feel the hot liquid through the paper cup and it warms his hand.

"I've never eaten in an alley before. It's kind of low even for me." Her voice is rough but there is a gleam in her eye.

He eats his own sandwich and chokes back the coffee even though it tastes like shit.

"This tastes like shit."

He can't help the smirk that spreads across his face for a second as her words echo his thoughts. He's never spent this much time with Santana before. She's the only Glee kid who he wouldn't consider himself close to...well, wouldn't have considered himself close to before...

"Glad to see the grin, Mr. Data." She finishes off her sandwich and puts the wrapper back in the plastic bag. He does the same. "My mom is going to call the cops if I don't get home soon."

He nods. He wouldn't say he enjoyed her company but he didn't hate it either. Maybe he should because of what she said to Quinn but the hate just isn't there. His skin isn't crawling. He doesn't feel nervous.

"Are you...are you sure you want me to just leave you here? It's late and cold." She shivers as their eyes lock again.

He stands and she follows. She shivers again and he isn't sure what makes him do it but he pulls his sweatshirt over his head and hands it to her. She stares between it and his face before she reaches out and takes it. Pulls it over her own head and snuggles into the fabric that is still warm from his body heat.

He blinks away the image of Quinn laying on a dirty couch, snuggled in his leather jacket.

He moves to step away. Continue his walk. Her voice stops him, "Did it feel good when you..." She pauses, takes a deep breath, and starts again, "That man that killed Brittany – did it feel...the stories I heard on the news..."

She's crying again. He isn't sure exactly what she's asking but he has an idea.

He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder. He nods again and she smiles as she pulls the sleeves of the sweatshirt tightly around her body, "I wish I had been there when it happened."

_No you don't._

He turns and starts walking again. She doesn't call him back again and he's glad because he isn't sure that he would turn around again anyway.

The streets are quiet now and he walks for a long time. He feels different some how. He thinks maybe sitting with Santana, listening to her speak, giving her the sweatshirt...maybe it made her feel better. Maybe she needed that to start healing - to begin the process of letting go of the pain of losing Brittany.

Pushing Emma away had hurt - almost physically. It had drained him, left him feeling empty and more alone than ever. Promising to text Quinn, sitting with Santana, watching movies with Finn and Sue...those things had been hard but he didn't feel dirty afterward. He isn't sure what he felt afterward but he doesn't think he felt bad. He had done those things for their benefit more than his own.

Maybe there is something in that.

Maybe he's still here because he has to pay his penance for his crimes.

He's lost in thought and almost trips over a pair of legs stretched out across the sidewalk of whatever street he wandered down. He looks around trying to figure out exactly where his feet have taken him. The lights are out in most of the buildings but he recognizes the movie theater. He isn't all that far from his apartment. Three miles maybe.

He managed to make it back to the one place he was trying to avoid.

_Idiot._

He looks down at the legs he tripped over and up to the body they're attached to. A homeless man is sitting on the ground, his back leaning against the door to an antique shop. He locks eyes with the man and knows instantly that the man doesn't recognize him. He doesn't have the same look of shock or disgust or pity that everyone else has when they see him. This man hasn't seen the news. He's ignorant of Monster and Quinn and Brittany and Becky and the nine other people Monster killed.

There is definitely something comforting in that.

"Hey, man, spare any change?" The homeless man's voice is scratchy and he smells like a liquor store. He smells like Will's mom.

Maybe there is something comforting in that too.

Will's hand goes to his pocket before he remembers that he doesn't have his wallet. He doesn't even know where his wallet is. Still at the police station maybe. He feels badly instantly. He wants to give this man something. Wants to pay him back for looking at him like he's a human being.

He shrugs and the man smiles weakly, "It's okay, dude. No worries."

Will is about to turn around. About to walk away when he notices the man's feet. It's freezing out – probably less than 40 degrees at this point, but the man is wearing nothing on his feet except a pair of worn socks. Will slides down to the ground next to the homeless man and they regard each other curiously as Will unties his sneakers.

He clears his throat a couple of times as he works up the nerve to speak, "I...they're new. The shoes, I mean." He stutters but the man doesn't seem to notice. "I've only worn them a couple of times and you have...it's cold outside."

The man smiles at him as he takes the shoes. _Really _smiles at him and it's not filled with pity and Will feels something other than the crippling anxiety that constantly eats away at his insides. "Thanks, man! But what are you going to wear?"

Will stands slowly, watches the man pull on the shoes. "It's...I only live...I live close. It's okay. Thank you."

"Thank you? For what? I can't thank _you _enough." The man taps his new shoes together appreciatively and smiles up at Will.

"Just...thank you." And he turns and walks away from the homeless man and his warm smile. The ground is cold beneath his socks but he doesn't care. The wind whips and stings across his bare forearms but he doesn't care. He thinks maybe there truly is something behind this penance thing.

It takes him another hour to make it back to his apartment. As he walks up the stairs wearing filthy socks and shivering from the cold, he doesn't feel good but he feels _something. _He rounds the corner to the second floor and stares the short distance down to number 203. Sue is standing in front of his door. A worried, almost sad expression written across her face.

Their eyes lock.

"William." Her voice is pleading. Upset. He's seen her angry before. Rage before. He's never seen her look worried this way before...especially not about him. She doesn't look like she expects anything from him. Doesn't look like she wants to hurt or destroy him. She just looks...sad.

And he realizes that maybe she needs something from him too.

He walks first. Moves the dozen or so steps it takes to reach her. They stand in front of each other for a moment, staring. He can do this. He can make her feel better. At least a little.

Penance.

He leans his head against the crook of her neck and brings his arms up around her middle, holding her loosely.

"_Now let's hug it out."_

"_I'd rather not do that."_

"_I really don't see that happening."_

How a year can change things.

Sue hesitates a beat before her arms come up around him and she's squeezing him back. They stand like that for a long moment, silent and unmoving. Eventually Sue's gaze travels downward and she feels compelled to break the silence, "William, where are your shoes? You're freezing."

He doesn't answer but he thinks he could if he wanted to. He reaches past her and opens the door to his apartment. Side steps her and leads her inside. He isn't surprised when her voice sounds from behind, admonishing him like a child. "William, if you ever run off like that again, I will personally set fire to your collection of DVD musicals. I will send out invitations. It'll be a giant gay bonfire in the street outside – complete with hula skirts and a roasted pig."

_She's teasing. Just like Santana._

"Really, William." Her voice is serious now and he turns to face her – to make eye contact, because that is what she needs. "Don't ever run away again. I thought you had hurt yourself. We had the cops out looking for you..."

_Because they did such a stellar job in the search the first time around._

"Finn and Kurt are still out looking for you. What was that in the hospital with the red head? What were you trying to do?"

She wants answers. She needs answers. He needs to give them to her...penance. He sucks his lip into his mouth and bites down out of habit. The taste of copper that drips down the back of his throat isn't nearly as comforting as it usually is. His mouth hurts terribly and he wants to put ice on it.

She follows him to the kitchen as soon as his feet start heading in that direction. He finds a plastic sandwich bag and fills it with ice cubes from the freezer. Holds the bag against his mouth as Sue eyes him warily. Finds his nerve, keeps his voice as strong and unwavering as he can – so not very, "I...I wanted her to leave."

"Why William? She was there to help..."

"She doesn't like to be dirty. I'm dirty."

Her eyes are very bright under the fluorescent glare in the kitchen. He wants to shut the lights off but doesn't move to do so, "William, you aren't..."

"I'm a monster." He says it very quietly and her eyes widen. Maybe she didn't realize. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she couldn't sense it on him. It's the first time he has said it out loud. "I'm a monster but I...I don't want to be."

"William, you aren't a monster." Her voice is strong like he wants his to be, "I'm going to help you see that."

He nods. He's spoken enough. She waits in the living room while he showers and changes his clothes. Brushes his teeth and applies a layer of aloe to his abused mouth. It tastes terrible but it numbs wonderfully. He looks at his face in the mirror – another first since he's been back. His mouth is bruised painfully – cracked, raw lips that look like they belong on some evil creature from a scary movie. His face is too thin. The dark smudges beneath his eyes make him look ghoulish. This is what he has become but this is not who the people in his life want him to be and so he'll change...for them. He'll be normal. He'll sleep and eat and talk and not zone out. He'll be who they want him to be.

At least he'll try.

Penance.

He picks up his phone from the bedside table. Wonders if Finn and Kurt are still out wandering around in the cold because of him. Maybe Sue called them? He owes it to them to make sure they're not wasting their time on him.

1:55 am Message to Finn Hudson: I'm home. I'm sorry.

1:55 am Message to Kurt Hummel: I'm home. I'm sorry.

He debates texting Emma as well. He was cruel to her. How do you say sorry to that? Maybe some relationships can't be repaired. Shouldn't be repaired.

_Slut. _

He shuts his eyes and when he opens them again Sue is in front of him. Maybe he'll work on the zoning out thing first. "William, I think you should get to bed."

He nods. Looks down at his phone again.

1:59 am Message to Quinn Fabray: If ever there is a tomorrow when we're not together...

2:00 am Message to Quinn Fabray: Good-night.

He shuts his phone off, climbs into bed. If they reply, he doesn't want to read them tonight. He's too tired right now. He's surprised when Sue turns out the light and lays down on the other side of the bed. "It's too late to go home. Good-night, William."

Sue Sylvester calls out of work the next morning. So does Emma Pillsbury.

The only Glee member who manages to arrive at school the next day is Rachel Berry. She looks around for the familiar faces of her team mates and when she can't find a single one, she spends the rest of the day crying in the bathroom. She feels left out and alone but she's determined to turn everything around again. She'll bring everyone back together.

She will fix them all.


	33. Chapter 33

Sorry for the delay. My sister had her baby Sunday annnnnd...I'm an auntie now! Yay! Super excited! My dear little nephew needed my attention for a few days...or I needed his at least. :)

Oh? This chapter? Yeah...**Rated R** (**violence, violence, and more violence.** Offended by that? You should probably move along).

THANK YOU for all of your reviews and messages for the last two chapters! You guys are awesome! Curiosity...for those of you who have, how long does it take to read this from beginning to end?

Love you all. :)

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"Nap time is over! Junior has returned home!"

Monster's booming voice penetrates the silence of the basement. Quinn forces her stiff limbs to move and sits up, pushing the blankets away. She doesn't want to be pinned down by anything while that psycho is down here. Becky springs up out of bed and rushes to her side. Her voice is strong but there is fear in her eyes, "Will, wake up!"

And he does. Slowly. He pulls himself up and brings his legs over the side of the bed to sit next to Quinn. Becky moves to his other side and grips his arm. He stares down at their feet – three sets of white socks against the concrete, and waits.

He just wants to go back to sleep.

"Did you miss me?" When none of them answer he makes his way down the rest of the stairs, places the bag he is carrying on the ground, and points the gun at Becky's forehead, "Did you miss me?"

Quinn expects Will to answer but his head remains bowed, his mouth shut in a tight line. She clears her throat. "Y-yes. We missed you."

"Fantastic!" He smiles wide, his yellow teeth poking out proudly between his lips. He lowers the gun to his side. Pulls his belt from around his pants with surprising ease considering he only uses one hand. "Now, I know I said we were going to have a little celebration but that was before you pissed me off, mom. You choose him _again_! I got promoted and you didn't even bother saying congratulations to me! You were too busy with him again!" He stomps his feet like a child and each dull thud against the ground echoes off of the wall.

The sound sends little jolts of panic up Quinn's spine.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm used to the disappointment." He takes a deep breath and smiles again, "I thought maybe we'd skip right to our game. That will will be fun! I had kind of a shitty day because of you and I need a little cheering up. Want to cheer me up, Kathy?"

Becky glares. Monster laughs.

"Perfect!" He points to a spot on the ground and motions for Becky to sit there. She does so clearly reluctantly. Will finally glances up as he feels her move away. He zoned out briefly and it takes him a moment to put the pieces together...Becky's on the floor and Monster is holding his belt.

It's one of Monster's games.

Monster motions for him to sit across from Becky facing her and he does. Quinn is left sitting on the bed. She feels the panic that had settled in her spine start to travel outward through the rest of her body as memories from the last time Monster set them up like this start to flash through her mind.

He had whipped them all. He made her choose which one he brought upstairs to rape. She sent Will. She let him rape Will.

Will isn't meeting her eyes. He's clearly remembering the same situation.

Monster claps his hands loudly to get Quinn's attention. He is standing directly behind Becky now. "Get up, Mom. Stand behind Dad."

She does so without hesitation. She wants to be closer to him.

"Here's the rules, Mom. I'm going to give you a task and a time limit. If you complete your task, you win and Kathy here gets the belt. I know how much you like to put your husband before your kids so that's your prize. Hooray!"

He claps again and Quinn feels her stomach clench tightly. She can see where this is going.

Becky's eyes are wide with panic. She can see where this is going too.

"If you lose, then you get to give Dad the lighter." He pulls the lighter from his pocket with the hand not holding the gun. As he flicks it on, Will flinches and Monster laughs loudly before sobering up quickly. "I don't care where you put it but I'll know if you go easy on him so don't. If you refuse to complete the task, both of them get punished." Monster smiles and Quinn knows that he's hoping she refuses to participate in his game.

He wants them to suffer. Becky and Will physically. Her mentally.

She stares at the back of Will's bowed head as Monster continues, "Dad, if you open your mouth, Kathy gets punished. Kathy, if you open your mouth, Dad gets punished. Keep them shut. Mom doesn't get any help for this. Ready?"

She nods because she has to. She feels lightheaded and sick. She can't do this. She remembers the noises that Will made after Monster rushed down the stairs weeks ago and burned him with the lighter over and over again. She can't do that to him. Her eyes go to Becky. There are tear stains on her cheeks and her lip is trembling pitifully. She can't let Monster whip her either.

All of this because his mother didn't say 'congratulations'. He's going to torture them all because of something so simple.

She wants him dead. She wants his entire family dead. She wants to be the one to end them.

"Easy one first. Do a jumping jack, Mom. Just one. Ten second time limit...and go." He's smiling. Slowly counting down from ten.

He's going to whip Becky.

If she doesn't do it, he'll hurt them both.

She feels tears rolling down her cheeks. Becky is staring at her wide-eyed, tears and snot covering her face. Her eyes are pleading with Quinn not to do it. She can't see Will's face but his head is bowed. She doesn't know what he would do in her situation.

Monster gets down to three before Quinn extends her arms and legs and does the exercise.

Monster laughs giddily. Raises the belt and brings it down on Becky's back.

She cries out and arches her back against the hit but Quinn can tell that Monster didn't use all of his strength on the hit.

He's warming up.

"Good for you. You get to protect Dad. I'm sure you're pleased." He walks a step and rummages through his bag. Retrieves a cookie and holds it up to her. "Next task: Eat it. You have ten seconds."

She takes the cookie. The proximity to him makes her head swim. He moves back to stand behind Becky.

She puts the stale tasting cookie in her mouth and chews quickly. Becky can take a few hits before she has to start burning Will. She's healthier than he is. She watches him - the even rise and fall of his breathing. He still hasn't moved at all and she wonders what he's thinking. If he'll be mad that she let Becky get it.

Becky's eyes are still pleading with her. She's terrified.

She opens her mouth wide to demonstrate her empty mouth as Monster reaches two in his countdown. He smiles. Brings the belt up and strikes down against Becky's back again.

She's sobbing now. Her hands are shaking and she's making little wheezing noises every time she inhales. Quinn's own eyes burn from the tears streaming out of them.

Quinn feels like shit. Lower than dirt. Worthless. She can't protect them.

"Excellent for you. Now recite the alphabet backwards. You have thirty seconds." He grins.

She starts immediately. Gets to P, messes up, and skips O. Starts again. Makes it to K and skips J. Starts again.

15...14...13...

She misses N this time. Starts again.

6...5...4...3...

She's on G when the countdown ends. She failed. She tried her hardest to focus but with his counting and the pressure of having to choose which of the two gets tortured, she couldn't do it. Monster laughs hard and holds the lighter out to her. She takes it and stares at Will's now trembling back.

He knows it's coming.

"Turn it on and count to ten. Let it out and put it against his skin for five."

She swallows hard, sobs loudly, and lights the lighter.

She doesn't want them both to get hurt. If she can prevent one from suffering for at least a moment, she'll do it.

Will listens to her counting but she sounds very far away. He wants to look at Becky but every time he tries, it's like looking down the end of a tunnel and he gets horrendously dizzy. His vision is blurred black at the edges.

1...2...3...4...

He braces himself.

5...6...7...

Bites his lip to keep from screaming out. He doesn't want Becky to get hurt.

8...9...10.

And then it touches his skin and she's counting again but he can't focus on it. It hurts too damn bad. He's too damn tired.

Quinn watches his muscles tense even tighter but he doesn't make a sound. The lighter sticks to the skin of his shoulder slightly as she pulls it away. She had pressed it to one of the healed burn marks already on his shoulder. Didn't want to scar him further. The spot is red and raw now. Bleeding slightly where the healed skin melted off.

She swallows a mouth full of bile.

"Sorry you had to do that to your hubby. You must feel terrible. Maybe you can learn to feel terrible when I get hurt too!" He screams and Becky flinches. Sobs harder and hugs herself around the middle. She looks as if she's going to be sick. She looks like Quinn feels. He takes a deep breath and visibly calms. "Now, 10 push ups. You have twenty seconds. Go"

That one is easy even though she's tired, stressed, and in pain. She's done more pushups than that in a shorter period of time for Coach Sylvester. As she stands, she can tell he's surprised that she accomplished her task. He brings the belt down hard across Becky's back and the little girl screams out. Quinn can see a wet line down the brown leather.

She's bleeding.

Her blood is on the belt.

Quinn feels her stomach lurch then. She heaves forward and spits up a mouth full of bile. It splashes to the floor, most of it landing on the back of Will's jean clad legs and she wants to puke again but can't. She's dirtied him _again_. He doesn't react at all and some how it makes her feel worse.

Monster laughs as she stares down at her sick seeping into Will's pant legs.

"Are you starting to feel bad for neglecting me, Mom? Not bad enough!" He roars the last part and then visibly calms again. She vaguely wonders if he's bi-polar or schizophrenic. It doesn't matter. She still wants him dead. Wants him to suffer. She watches as he moves and then rummages around in his bag. He produces a stick of butter and practically forces it into her hand. "Eat it. You have one minute."

What. The. Fuck.

She unwraps it quickly as he counts. She can't do this. It's warm and slimy. She puts it to her mouth and gags as the salty taste meets the taste of the bile already on her tongue. She gags. Tries again and manages to take a bite but can't swallow it. She gags again and another mouth full of bile comes up and along with the mouth full of butter forces its way out of her mouth. It again splashes on Will's pant legs.

He still doesn't react. Doesn't move at all.

Monster is laughing again. He's down to number 21 now.

She stares at the butter in her hand, melting through her fingers, and cries hard. She can't do this. He's setting her up for failure.

6...5...4...

It's dripping down her wrist.

3...2...1.

"Light the lighter, mom. Failure." He chuckles. She can't light the lighter with the butter in her hand. She drops most of it to the ground and it lands next to her feet with a wet squishing sound. Her fingers are too slick and she has to rub her hand clean on her clothes in order to flick the lighter on.

She can hardly count through her sobs but apparently it's good enough for Monster because he's smiling. Becky is now silent in front of him, her eyes are closed. She looks as though she's sleeping except for the tremors shaking her body.

Will hears Quinn's voice counting but doesn't understand what she's doing. Doesn't understand why he's on the floor and why everything smells terrible. Like sweat and puke. They were doing something. Monster is here. Becky is across from him with her eyes closed. He tries to remember but everything is so fuzzy...his vision, his hearing, his thoughts.

And then the lighter touches his shoulder and he doesn't remember not to scream.

He cries out and arches forward. He hears Monster laughing through the roar of blood rushing through his brain. They were playing a game. Quinn is burning him. He remembers and bites his lip hard to stop himself from screaming. Blood drips onto the floor in front of him from his mouth. He focuses on the drops that hit the ground.

Quinn sobs loudly as he screams out a garbled version of the word 'stop'. She counts to five quickly and then pulls the heated metal away. Monster doesn't say anything about the fast count. He's too amused. He brings up the belt and strikes down against Becky's back hard. She screams. Teeters forward and just barely breaks her fall with her palms, breathing hard and sobbing. "I told you not to make a sound, Dad! Look at what you did to poor Kathy!"

There are blood droplets dripping from the belt. Quinn wants to rush forward and comfort her but she's rooted in place. She can't move because he'll just hurt Becky again. She wishes that he would just end them all now. Put a bullet in each of them. Anything to stop this.

Will stares from the blood dripping to the ground from his mouth to the blood dripping to the ground from the belt. He wonders how long it would take for the two puddles to reach each other. Which puddle would have to travel farther. It would be like a race.

_Why is Becky crying? Where is Quinn?_

He shakes his head to try to clear it. It doesn't work. He starts to crawl forward to help Becky but then Monster is screaming at him. He can hear Quinn crying behind him. _They were playing a game..._

"If you move again, she dies!" Monster screams and Will stops moving. Quinn wants to see his face. He should know better.

"Get up!" He nudges Becky with with his foot and she slowly drags herself up, sobbing all the while. Her face is drenched in snot and tears and sweat. Quinn can't see her back but knows it must be awful. The blood has stopped dripping from the belt at least.

"Next task." He smiles and she knows something awful is coming. "Count to ten. That's it. Simple. No time limit."

Quinn's mind goes blank for a second before everything rushes at her at once. The blood, the vomit, Becky's tears, Will's unmoving back, the belt, Monster. He wants to hit Becky. That's what this entire thing was about.

She starts counting. Becky is bawling hysterically. She makes it to six and notices Will's body teetering. Wonders what the hell he is doing.

7...8...9...

His body hits the floor. He doesn't try to break his fall and his head smacks against the concrete with a dull thud. Monster stares between her and Will before his face contorts in rage. "You didn't say 10!"

He smacks Becky with the belt and she teeters and falls too. She cries silently against the cold ground.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Monster stalks forward and kicks Will hard in the stomach. He doesn't react and Quinn feels panic start to set in as she tries to figure out what the hell happened. She can see the rise and fall of his breath. He isn't dead. Why would he be? She gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. Remembers the few times in the past that he had stared off into space blankly.

Shit.

"Get up! What the fuck is this?! Is this a trick?!" He kicks again and again and again. Will doesn't move to protect himself from the hits. Doesn't move at all.

Behind Monster, Becky curls herself into a ball and cries quietly.

When the kicks don't get a reaction, Monster stares angrily at Quinn. Reaches out and pushes her to the ground next to Will. Her legs land in the slimy butter. Her hand lands in a little puddle of blood that she didn't notice before. She can see Will's face now. The blood is from his mouth. His chin is coated in red. His eyes are open – his pupils dilated so much that the green is just a sliver around black.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The game is ruined. He's going to kill them all.

"What is he doing!?" Monster screams, cutting off her train of thought. "Get him up!"

Quinn jerks forward. Grabs Will's face in her shaking hands and meets his eyes, "Will, you need to wake up!" He doesn't. She slaps him. Slaps him again and again and again. Screams his name.

He doesn't stir.

Becky's sobs echo through her mind.

She shakes him. Screams his name again.

Nothing.

She needs to do something. She looks up at Monster. He looks beyond angry. Livid. Murderous.

"He...he just...he needs air. He can't breathe. He must have gotten light headed. You don't want to have to get a new family. We can be a good family for you. You don't need to hurt us. Please!" She's sobbing and Monster's look changes from barely contained rage to amusement. Quinn doesn't know if she should continue. If they're going to die, she doesn't want Becky to die alone. She needs to get her and drag her to Will.

They'll die together.

She lets go of Will's face and starts the crawl over to Becky. She reaches her. Kisses her head. Rubs as much of the snot and tears off of her face as she can with her bare, dirty hand. Becky doesn't open her eyes but her breathing calms slightly.

Quinn feels her stomach clench when Monster stoops next to Will and yanks him up over his shoulder. He struggles for a brief moment before he hefts his body up in a fireman's carry and stands. Will's body hangs limply over his shoulder.

He's going to drag him upstairs and kill him. He's going to let Becky and Quinn live and kill Will and they'll be alone and...

"Pick her up." Monster points at Becky. "Follow me. If you make a noise. I'll put a bullet in each of you."

Maybe not.

Quinn does as she's told. She's careful of her back – supporting her as best she can by squeezing her tightly by the back of her legs. Becky is almost as limp as Will. Her skin is hot and she's covered in sweat. She doesn't hang on. It would be easier to carry her if she would hang on.

Quinn doesn't ask her to. She deserves to carry her entire weight. She made her suffer. This is her fault.

Monster leads her upstairs, easily carrying Will's weight while Quinn struggles with Becky's.

She expects to stop in the other basement. They don't.

Monster leads her up the second set of stairs. Down the dusty hallway and through the front door. It's dark. Very dark. There is a scattering of stars in the sky but no moon. It's the first time they have breathed fresh air in over a month and Quinn inhales it greedily. Becky lifts her head up and also inhales before burying her face in Quinn's neck. Her thin arms raise up around Quinn's neck and she holds on tightly. Her weight gets easier to support.

Monster walks a couple of feet from the cabin and drops Will to the dirt carelessly. He points to the ground and Quinn sits, placing Becky gently beside her. The girl's head still resting against her shoulder.

When she had suggested that Will just needed air, she didn't expect Monster to comply. She didn't expect that he would actually allow them to breathe in clean air and sit beneath the night sky. Quinn feels peaceful for the first time in a very long time. He wouldn't shoot them out here. Someone would hear. He must know that no one is looking for them anymore.

"He has twenty minutes to snap out of it." Monster whispers as he sits across from them. The gun dangles ominously from his right hand.

Quinn watches Will's face for any sign that he might be snapping out of it. She sees nothing. She'll give him a little time before she tries to wake him up. She wants Becky to enjoy peace for a few minutes.

* … * … * … * … * … *

_What the hell is this, Will? Do you call this room 'clean'? It's disgusting! You're disgusting._

_His mother is yelling at him again. He thought his room was clean. He doesn't own much so there isn't much to put away. The bed was made perfectly. His clothes were in the hamper. Why was she so mad now?_

_She's kicking him in the stomach but he can't move. Why can't he move? She's punched him, thrown things at him, slapped him...but she's never kicked him before..._

_Someone is crying. Someone is screaming. He doesn't understand what's going on._

_What is happening?_

_You're a slut, Will. You're a slut. You're a slut. You're a slut. Everyone should know that._

_It's not his mom. Emma is kicking him. His stomach hurts terribly. His shoulder is on fire._

_What is happening?_

_I'm disappointed, son. You shouldn't have made your mother angry._

_Emma morphs into his father. Staring down at him. Smacking his face. His dad doesn't usually hit him...it doesn't make sense._

_What is happening?_

_I'm reasonably confident that you will be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at. Right next to being married..._

_Not his father. Sue. She's lifting him up over her shoulder. She's stronger than she looks. _

_What is happening?_

_What's the matter with you, Will? You call these dishes clean? Are you retarded?_

_Terri. Terri is hurting him. It was Terri all along. Another one of her tricks. His entire body hurts. His head is pounding. He wants to sleep._

_What is happening!?_

_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. Nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the Earth for you, to make you feel my love._

_No. Terri is gone. Quinn is singing to him. She looks down at him and there are tears streaming out of her eyes. She looks terrified. Why? _

_What's happening?_

_Quinn. _

_Becky._

_Monster. _

_They were playing a game..._

He sucks in a deep breath as his eyes focus. Quinn is staring down at him. A small smile on her face that does nothing to take away the fear in her eyes. Becky is to her left – her eyes are closed, scrunched shut tightly. There are trees behind them.

Trees? He's on his side in the dirt. It's dark out. His head hurts so badly that it feels like it's going to implode. He tries to ignore it. Tries to focus on Quinn's face. She moves slightly and pulls his head on to her lap. She smells like vomit. Becky's little hand goes up into his hair and settles there.

He notices Monster and the gun. There is a smile on the face of the sadist.

He doesn't like that look.

He closes his eyes and digs his fingers into the dirt. It feels nice being outside.

It of course doesn't last. They get about five minutes before Monster takes away their freedom. Five minutes of fresh air. Five minutes outside of their concrete prison.

Monster stands. Points the gun and motions for Quinn to lift up Becky. She does. He motions for Will to stand and he struggles shakily to his feet. He follows with the gun as they walk through the front door, down the dim hallway, down the stairs to the first basement. Monster stops, moves ahead of them, and opens the door to their prison. Quinn walks through with Becky but stops when she realizes that Monster isn't following her any longer. He's pointing the gun at Will now. Blocking his path down the stares.

Will and Quinn lock eyes for a moment before Monster's head gets in the way.

His voice is mockingly pleasant. "Sit on your mattress, sweetheart. You owe me." Will complies - slumps to the ground slowly and lays on the filthy mattress.

He just wants to sleep.

Monster turns his head and meets Quinn's panicked eyes. "Thanks for waking up my toy. He gives it up too sweetly to waste a bullet on." He pauses. Smiles and continues, "Clean that little bitch up. I'm not going to be gentle next time."

He slams the door shut and locks it

Quinn can't breathe. She made Becky suffer. She made Will suffer. She asked for fresh air and now Will was going to pay for Monster's generosity with his body.

She makes it shakily down the steps. Gets Becky onto her bed and then crumples to the floor and sobs.

She just wants everything to be over.


	34. Chapter 34

I was going to move away from the basement for a couple of chapters but I'll hold off until next time. :p

**Rated R. ** I'm a little iffy on this chapter. The end of it just wouldn't come out right. :/

The next few chapters will be present day fluff.

Enjoy.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Will is dully aware that Monster is on top of him. His head hurts so badly it feels like it's about to implode. His body is rocking back and forth roughly. Monster is grunting in his ear. Everything hurts. He can feel blood dripping slowly down his leg. He understands what is happening to his body. What he doesn't understand is how Emma got here. How Terri got here. How Sue got here. How his mom and dad got here.

They're sitting behind Monster – laughing at him. Mocking him. An audience to watch him get brutalized. Over and over and over...

He keeps his eyes on them as they whisper their hurtful words.

"_I was wrong when I said that he wasn't good at anything. He seems plenty good at that." Sue speaks with a straight face. Her voice sounds like it's coming down a very long tunnel._

"_Oh, he loves it. Look at his face. The little slut." Emma isn't stuttering. Her accent is wrong some how. Her voice is angry and sounds like it is very far away even though she's sitting only a few feet from his outstretched arm._

"_He did cheat on me with the ginger. Oh, she wouldn't fuck him like he wanted her to – he's too filthy for that, but even when he thought I was pregnant..." She snickers at her mention of the pretend baby and then continues, "He still wanted to bang her. Slut."_

"_Forget about him being a giant whore for a minute." His dad speaks now – distant and angry sounding. "Did you see what happened? What he did? He didn't even protect those girls. Becky got beat because he couldn't keep his mouth shut."_

"_What a loser." Terri laughs._

"_I prefer the term 'failure'." Sue adds mockingly._

Monster is sucking on his neck. Bites down roughly. It hurts. Everything hurts. His audience laugh and clap and Will closes his eyes tight to escape them. It doesn't work.

"_Failure slut. Perfect nickname, I'd say." Terri. Her whiny voice grates up his spine and forces his eyes open._

"_Did you want them beat so they could feel what you felt all those times I did it to you, son?" His mom's cold voice sounds over the others as they laugh. "I wouldn't have hit you if you weren't so pathetic. If you weren't so bad. I couldn't stand to look at you."_

"_I should have paid for the abortion when I had the chance." His dad shakes his head slowly. "We never wanted a kid. Especially a worthless screw up."_

"_Those girls sure would have been better off. Maybe a real man could have protected them. His idea of protecting them is laying down with his pants around his ankles." Emma sneers. The look is foreign on her face._

"_He's just doing what he's good at." Sue's tunnel voice whispers._

"_Yes. He's dirty. He's pathetic." They all speak the same words at the same time. They repeat it over and over as Monster rocks him over and over. A mantra for his punishment._

"_He's dirty. He's pathetic."_

Monster tenses above him and more liquid seeps down his legs. The burns on his shoulder blade hurt from being rubbed against the ground. Monster is smiling down at him. Brings his lips down to meet Will's unresponsive mouth.

"_Slut. Slut. Slut. Slut. Take it. Take it. Take it. The girls are going to die because of you. Maybe they're already dead. Dead. Dead. Dead."_

"No love for me? After I was so gentle with you? I didn't even tie you up. I had to tie the others up. One of them fought so hard I had to break his ankles. You're a good boy though. A sweet boy." Monster whispers in his ear lowly and for a second it drones out the chorus of other voices. He slides the cold metal of the gun up Will's chest and across his throat.

Taunts him.

His audience laughs harder. They want him dead.

Maybe he wants himself dead too.

"What are you looking at?" Monster turns his head and looks right at the group sitting behind him. Turns back to Will with a scowl on his face, "What are you looking at? Aren't I interesting enough for you?"

Will brings his eyes from the audience to the ring master. He wants an answer. He needs to speak. Monster wouldn't hurt Becky if Will speaks to answer his question. His voice is a croak, "They're laughing at me."

Monster turns his head again and stares through the audience once more. Sits back and regards Will with humor in his eyes, "Whatever, Looney Tunes." He stands and zips his pants.

"_He thinks you're crazy. You're worse than he is. Becky trusted you. Quinn trusted you." His father sneers._

"_Quinn shouldn't trust him. He wants to bang her too. He wants to hurt her." Terri smirks hatefully._

"I don't." He answers her. That's too far. He would never hurt Quinn. He doesn't want to sleep with her. Not here. Not in this place. Not before she's an adult and maybe not even then. She wants to wait until she's married and make love to her husband. She wants it to be special. He would never take that from her.

Monster stares at him. A mix of confusion and..._pity_ on his face. "I know about you. The Spanish teacher from McKinley. I don't mind telling you this because you're never going anywhere." He laughs and continues. Will tries to focus on what he is saying but it's hard – almost impossible. "I work at the hospital. I've snooped through your medical records. It was surprisingly easy. No one pays attention to me."

"_Easy like you, Slut." Emma._

"_Oh, snap." Sue._

"Becky is boring because she's nine. Nothing there except a couple of stitches and I certainly can't use that against her." He smiles and sits crossed leg on the ground with the rest of the audience. How does he not see them? "I know all about Lucy Fabray and her nose job and her weight loss. Did you know she used to be a porker? They showed the picture on the news. Cute girl now though. Also your student – well done hitting that. I think the butter earlier was a little much. I should have used chocolate icing so she could stuff some back like a cow. She's probably one of those bulimic whores who wouldn't pay attention to me in school." He sneers and then laughs.

The audience laughs too.

He doesn't correct any of them. He never slept with Quinn but they don't care about that. She's not bulimic. She's an athlete.

"Your records were a bit more interesting, sweetheart. Fifty four visits to the emergency room before you turned eighteen? Stitches, broken bones, bruises, welts, concussions. Maybe that's why you're so good at taking a hit now. None of my others lasted so long with the belt and you had all those hits to the skull too – impressive. All those injuries as a kid didn't raise up the red flags?"

"_No one cared enough about you to raise up the flags. Why would they? Good for nothing." His mom sneers._

"No one raised the flags for me either. I think we have a lot in common. Did your dad ever sneak into your room late at night too?" He whispers it but it still thunders in Will's ears. The others sound like they're down a tunnel. Monster sounds like he's inside his head.

"_I would never touch him like that. He's filthy. He'd probably like it though." Dad._

"_Slut." Emma._

He doesn't answer because his father already has. Monster smiles and drops his eyes. "We certainly do have a lot in common. In another life you could have been me."

"_Just give him time. He has the constitution of a rapist." Terri._

"_He'd just fail at that too." Sue._

"I want one more go, I think. Then I'll get the buckets and you can go downstairs again. You look sleepy." He crawls the few feet to Will's prone body and tugs lightly on his curls. Will wants to puke at the sensation. He closes his eyes and remains still instead. "I like that you stopped fighting me. I really don't want to have to hurt you or the girls. Sometimes it's fun but really, I just like being a part of something. You're my family. It's easier if you don't struggle. I don't have to hurt anyone if you don't struggle."

"_Why would he struggle? He likes it." Emma._

"I mean sometimes I'll have to torment Mom...Quinn. My mom just pisses me off so much. She always chooses her shitty husband over me. He's not even really my dad. Just some shit face she met when I was seven. And then she had Kathy and Brian and I got pushed aside," He snarls and tugs roughly on Will's hair. It hurts terribly but he doesn't react. Too much effort. Monster continues – his voice a little calmer, "I like to pretend it's my mom that I'm tormenting. Quinn has a really expressive face. It's fun watching her cry. It was fun watching her face when I was whipping the little bitch."

"_You're the reason she cries, son. You can't protect her. You're the reason Becky was whipped. You can't protect either of them. You're worthless." Dad._

Monster is on top of him now. He pushes in roughly and Will can't help the garbled cry that escapes his mouth. It hurts so damn bad. The shame. The pain. He tries to focus on something else but he can't. Turns his head to look at his audience – they're gone.

They left him alone. He isn't sure whether to be relieved or upset. He chooses to be nothing.

His eyes drift to the ceiling. It rocks back and forth as Monster rocks back and forth. His vision is blurring along the edges again – quickly fading to black.

_Finally._

It's over quickly this time. Monster finishes and crawls off. Stands, zips his pants again, and stares down at the man on the floor. His eyes are open but he has the same blank expression he had hours ago after their game. He's unresponsive. A breathing corpse. That's fine. He doesn't really mind right now.

He retrieves the buckets. Dumps the lemon cleaner and then water over the body. No reaction.

Pulls off the soiled clothes and dresses him in fresh as one would do for a sleeping toddler.

He likes it when they're clean – his friends. That's why he provides the toiletries. It's no fun playing family when the family smells like shit. He learned that with the first family he took. They were by far the worst. This one is by far the best.

He stoops. Puts the gun in his pocket – he doesn't need it right now. Picks up the body and heaves it over his shoulder. He unlocks the door, walks down the stairs, and deposits it on the couch. Quinn - his "mom", is laying on the ground near the beds and he smiles at her. Winks. She also doesn't react – just stares at him with glassy eyes.. He wants to laugh but he doesn't - the little girl looks to be asleep on the bed and he doesn't want to disturb her. She needs her sleep. She needs to heal. He wants to keep this family as long as he can.

He winks again at Quinn. Thinks up something clever to say. He wants to see her face contort. "I've finished with him. You can have a go now. "

It worked. Her face scrunches up and she starts bawling. He does laugh then. He can't help it. He walks up the stairs with the sounds of her crying ringing in his ears. He'll hang on to that sound for the next few days. It's time to go to work unfortunately. A week full of double shifts.

He hates spending time away from his family.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn can't move.

Becky is passed out on the bed behind her. She knows that she should clean her back – clean the blood and the bacteria away before infection sets in but...

She can't move.

She should clean the blood, butter, and vomit off of the ground. Becky's blood that had dripped from the belt. Will's blood that had dripped from his mouth after he bit his lip. The vomit that had dripped from her own mouth. It will start to smell. It already smells but...

She can't move.

She lays there for hours. She's freezing and her muscles hurt and she should move to the bed but even if she had the energy to get up, she can't sleep there without Will. She won't be able to sleep right again. She burned him. She sent him upstairs to get raped. She sent him upstairs to get beat. He won't want to sleep in the same bed with her again after this. He won't want anything to do with her at all.

She hears the creak at the top of the stairs but can't bring herself to care. Maybe Monster will come downstairs and end them.

Maybe he should.

Put them all out of their misery. An end to suffering. A kind end.

Will is slung over his shoulder. She can't tell whether he's hurt or unconscious or mentally gone but he's not moving. Monster tosses his body onto the couch roughly and heads back to the stairs.

So much for the end.

He stops and stares at her. Smiles and winks. She doesn't want him to look at her. His eyes are piercing her soul. His voice is as vile as the puke stained ground, "I've finished with him. You can have a go now. "

She can't stop the sob that escapes her mouth or the one that follows. She couldn't stop the tears if she tried. Monster leaves but she can't even feel relieved. This is her fault. Will is laying on the couch destroyed. Becky is laying on the bed covered in welts and bruises and deep cuts that ooze blood. She's the reason for their suffering.

This is all her fault.

When she first found out she was pregnant, she never thought about ending her baby's life but she had thought about ending her own. The only thing that had stopped her was the life growing inside of her that she was responsible for.

She couldn't do it then. Now she wishes she had.

None of this would have happened if she had died then. Will would never have had the pain of losing a baby that was never really his. She wouldn't have called his name and he wouldn't have stopped to speak to her at the Target that day. Brittany never would have been shot. Becky never would have been kidnapped and even if she had – even if she and Will had ended up down here together still, they'd have someone stronger with them. Someone who never would have let Becky get whipped. Someone who would have done something other than cower and play a willing part in the torture of the man she loved and a littler girl.

She's pathetic. Pathetic and weak.

Eventually her head starts to ache from all the tears that she has cried. Eventually those tears dry up and she's left shivering on the floor in the silent basement.

She has to get up. She has to do something to fix this – even a tiny piece of this.

She pushes herself to her hands and knees and then up to her feet. She's wobbly at best and her vision is swimming but she makes it to the sink and wets a blanket with soap and water. She'll take care of Becky first because she should have taken care of her hours ago.

Another mistake. Another selfish act.

She makes it back to the bed and rolls Becky's shirt up far enough to expose most of her back. She took four hits. Two didn't break the skin but they left ugly, swollen bruises behind as proof of Quinn's cowardice. The other two hits left matching deep lacerations on each of her shoulder blades. The bleeding has stopped and Quinn is thankful for that at least. She wipes away the blood and cleans the wounds. Becky whimpers softly but doesn't awaken.

Quinn is also thankful for that.

She leaves her shirt rolled up to prevent it from sticking to any blood that might ooze out during her sleep. Arranges her more comfortably with her head on the pillow. Pulls the blankets up to prevent her from catching a chill.

Everything she should have done hours ago.

Her guilt gnaws away at her insides.

She says a prayer even though she's sure God can't hear her down here and kisses Becky's hair.

Her eyes flick to the couch. Her stomach fills with dread. She feels awful for feeling awful that she needs to go near him. That she needs to help him – because he probably doesn't want her help even though he probably _needs_ it.

She approaches the couch slowly. Wets a few towels on her way and tip toes the rest of the way. She rounds the couch and stares down at his face – his eyes are open, that's what she was fearing – but she can tell that he's breathing so that's something.

She stares down at him for what feels like an eternity before she actually approaches him fully. – his bottom lip is swollen where he bit it, his eyes are empty. He's on his stomach so it's easy to roll up his shirt and look for any signs of Monster's abuse. She sees nothing new except the burns she inflicted herself.

Her stomach clenches and she has to drop the wet towels on the back of the couch and run to the sink to spit up the bile that explodes up into her mouth before it ends up on the floor. She brushes her teeth Drinks some water. Goes back to the couch.

She sits gingerly next to him and dabs at the burns. They don't look too bad but they probably sting something awful. She starts to feel queasy again and has to close her eyes tight and count to ten to push the feeling back down.

She sighs and runs her hands along the rest of him checking for any obvious injuries. Broken bones, bumps to the head – he's hit his head so many times in the last month she's surprised he doesn't have a serious brain injury of some sort. Looking down at his blank face she wonders if maybe he does.

They need to get out of here. Out the front door alive together or hauled out dead and dumped together like garbage. They can't go on like this.

She stops her hand at the top of his left leg – his dark wash jeans are slightly damp and sticky and she's afraid that maybe he's pissed himself in his stupor. She takes her hand away and looks down at her palm, now stained red and then she's rushing to the sink again and puking up the water she just drank.

She scrubs her hand until it's raw. The blood that was there – that's her fault. She did that. It's like she raped him herself. And then she's leaning against the wall and bawling again and she can't stop. She cries for so long and so hard that it physically hurts. She doesn't stop until the sound of quiet whimpering snaps her back to reality.

Whimpering from the couch.

He's awake.

She isn't sure whether she should go to him or run away. It's her fault that he's in pain. Completely and utterly and irrevocably her fault. She wants to run but the thought that he might need her pushes her legs towards him until she's standing in front of the couch and looking down at him once more. She kneels so that they're eye level because she doesn't want to be intimidating – she wants him to see her.

He's clearly awake now – his eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears. He's looking at something across the room, his mouth is pulled into a tight frown. He won't meet her eyes.

He hates her. She wants to cry again and then she realizes that she's never stopped.

"Will?" Her voice is hoarse and pitiful but he hears her and his eyes snap in her direction. They stare at each other for a long moment before he reaches out the short distance to her body and pokes her leg with his finger tips.

"I heard you crying. You're real. I think they weren't real but they're gone now." It's a whisper filled with relief and Quinn is confused about what he means so she stays quiet and waits for him to continue. He doesn't and they resume their silent staring contest until the silence gets too uncomfortable for her and she breaks it

"I...you're hurt. You're bleeding. Do you...do you need help?" She fidgets under his gaze. She isn't sure if she's said the right thing.

He blinks his eyes slowly at her a few times and then shakes his head. Whispers,"My head hurts. I just want to sleep."

She feels more tears spill out of her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Will. I'm so sorry that I burned you and that he whipped Becky because of me and that I told him that you needed fresh air because he...that's why he..." She's crying too hard to continue.

The sound of her crying tears through his brain and he can't take it – can't focus at all on the words coming out of her mouth. They jumble together and mean nothing. He brings his hand up and covers his ear to block out the sound. It doesn't really help but she notices his discomfort and takes a few deep, calming breaths to quiet herself. He looks at her sorrow filled face and feels the need to speak, "Don't cry. Please."

She nods because it's really all that she can do. He doesn't want her help. He doesn't even want to hear her. Doesn't want to see her. She was right. He doesn't want anything to do with her. She stands and moves to walk away but his hand on her wrist stops her.

"I...it hurts to move. Lay with me?" He knows he shouldn't ask. He's weak and pathetic and he should stay away from her because he's just going to hurt her again but he hurts so badly and he's so tired – emotionally, physically, mentally – that he just doesn't want to be alone. He wants her to stay. He wants her to love him and not blame him for being weak because everyone else blames him. Everyone else hates him and maybe she doesn't yet. Maybe she still sees something good in him.

Her face scrunches up but she doesn't start crying again. She holds it in because the sound will hurt him and she doesn't want to hurt him again. He isn't pushing her away. She sits on the edge of the couch and with some difficulty, he arranges himself to make room for her. She cuddles against his back, holds him tight, and he laces their fingers together against his chest. He can feel her breathing behind him – her breath is tickling his ear. He focuses on that and his head, even though it's still pounding terribly, clears enough to think straight again. "Quinn?"

"Yeah? Do you need anything? Are you okay?" Her voice is concerned and edgy.

"How is Becky? Is she...did he...is she hurt badly?" He needs to know. He needs to know the damage that he didn't prevent – the damage his weakness caused.

"She's...she's been sleeping since we came back down here. I cleaned her back. She'll be okay. She just needs to rest." Her voice is sad – incredibly sad. He shifts backwards so that their bodies are completely pressed against one another. It hurts terribly physically but knowing that she's with him, helps his thoughts focus. Keeps the others out of his brain. She tightens her hold on him and he thinks that maybe the others were lying. Maybe she doesn't hate him at all.

"Quinn?"

"Will?"

"I don't think you're a porker. He said you were a porker. I didn't correct him but...you're not a porker. I think you're beautiful." He doesn't know why he tells her but it feels like she needs to know. He's failed her so badly at least he can make up for a little piece of it.

She sniffles and squeezes him even tighter. She's quiet for a long moment before she whispers quietly against the back of his neck, "Thank you." Pause, "I love you. I love you so much."

He's quiet this time. Tries to process her words but they just don't make sense. She should hate him. She has every reason. He doesn't deserve her love. "Don't. Don't love me."

She doesn't reply but he can feel her tears soaking into the back of his shirt as he drifts off to a restless sleep.


	35. Chapter 35

Hope you all had a lovely Memorial Day weekend. I did. But now I'm sick with the plague...yay!

So far this story is three months old and over 100k words. That's insane.

This chapter? Long...and not rated R. And kind of bouncy.

Next chapter will be heavy on the Quinn and Kurt. I do love me some Quinn and Kurt.

Super.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Finn can't sleep. His mother called him out of school since he came home so late the night before. He had cried and told her about Quinn's suicide attempt. He hadn't told her that he was out until 2 am walking around Lima with Kurt looking for Will. He didn't think she'd approve – for more reasons than one. She was understanding about Quinn though and told him he could take a few days off.

His mom is the best.

He had woken up at 8:30 with a splitting headache and couldn't fall back to sleep. A day off from school that isn't spent sleeping until noon is kind of a waste. He takes a few Advil and a really hot shower and then riffles through the fridge for something to eat. His mom has already left for work so he settles on cold cereal and toast. His cooking skills are rather lacking.

He eats his cereal and stares at the kitchen table. He has things he could be doing – homework...a lot of homework, he just can't bring himself to do it. He considers texting Rachel but doesn't. He doesn't exactly know why he is so angry with her, why he is pushing her away, but every time he looks at her face or hears her voice, he wants to run and hide from her.

He settles on texting Kurt and Quinn.

9:02 am Message to Kurt Hummel: You up?

9:02 am Message to Quinn Fabray: I hope you're doing okay today. Let me know if I can visit. :)

He stands, puts his bowl in the sink, and goes upstairs to change. Fifteen minutes later and he's back in the kitchen checking his phone. No new messages but his eyes settle on the one he received last night – er...this morning – from Will.

1:55 am Message from Mr. Schue: I'm home. I'm sorry.

He wonders how hard it was for him to send that message or if maybe Coach Sylvester sent it herself from his phone If he can't visit Quinn yet, he could at least go check on Will. After he ran out of the hospital the night before, Finn seriously thought he was heading for a bridge to jump off or a truck to walk in front of. He was panicked until he and Kurt received that text. Kurt had read it first, huffed in annoyance, and started walking back towards where they had parked the car. Finn had read his and then mindlessly followed after the other boy. They hadn't spoken about it to each other, but Kurt did send a text back. Finn didn't ask what he wrote even though he did wonder...

He pulls on his shoes and grabs his backpack.

His mom never said he had to stay home.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Will wakes up to the sound of someone knocking on his front door. His head is pounding but that's not anything new. He wakes up every morning with his head pounding. He sits up quickly and it's a mistake (another mistake) because his heads swims and he has to close his eyes tight for a moment until it passes.

Sue is gone. There is a note on his bedside table - her distinctive scrawl telling him that she's gone to visit her sister and she'll be back for dinner. Does she expect him to make dinner?

He could try...

The person at the door knocks again. He had almost forgotten about them.

He stands, stretches, and heads quietly for the door. Looks out the peep hole and then leans back against the wall.

Finn.

The events of the night before rush back to him quickly. He's supposed to be making penance. Finn was out looking for him until late into the night. He should open the door for him. He should say 'thank you' or 'I'm sorry'. He should say _something_.

He stays leaning against the wall.

Finn knocks again on the other side of the door, "Look, I could...well, I could pretend that I don't hear you standing there but then maybe you would know that I'm pretending not to know and that's...that's really confusing what I just said, right? Well, see...you could open the door and just like point down the hallway or whatever and I'd leave you alone but you could also open the door and let me in – I'm cool with it either way. Just giving you that choice, I guess..."

A smirk spreads slowly across Will's face. Finn still just has that effect on him. Despite his size, he is quite possibly the least intimidating person Will has ever met. A gentle giant.

A normal person would answer the door and so he does.

He reaches out his hand and unlocks the door, pulls it open. He and Finn stare at each other for a beat before he makes up his mind and steps aside to let him enter. Finn heads into the living room and Will shuts and locks the door again.

"Hey, I hope I'm not like, disturbing you or anything. I mean, I know you got home late. I got your text but it was kind of too late to write back and I thought it might bother you. Did you...was that actually you who sent that? Because it's cool if it wasn't, I was just wondering." Finn hangs on to his back pack with one hand and shoves his other deep into the pocket of his jeans. Stares down at the floor.

He's nervous.

That's fine. Will is nervous too...even if he can't remember how to show it.

He clears his throat a couple of times and works up the nerve to speak. A normal person would speak. A normal person would answer. "I...I sent it. I'm..." he trails off. Looks out the window. It looks cold out – maybe too cold to sit on the fire escape today. He needs to turn on the space heaters. He starts moving towards the one near the window and then stops.

Finn.

He was talking to Finn. He turns his attention back and Finn is still standing there, hand in his pocket, fidgeting nervously. "Sorry. I'm sorry for...yesterday."

"Why'd Miss Pillsbury smack you? You got a pretty good bruise out of it, right across your cheek. Rachel hit me like that once when I tricked her into coming back to Glee. She...she was pretty pissed. Was Miss Pillsbury pissed?" Finn puts his back pack on the floor and shoves his other hand into his pocket. He must be planning on staying a while.

That's fine. Will looks down at himself – he's still wearing his pajamas. He's going to have to get dressed if Finn is staying.

He starts walking towards his room and then needs stop and turn around. Finn asked him a question. He forgot. It's harder to focus in the morning. "I was mean to her. I deserved a smack."

"No!" Will jumps in surprise at the volume and Finn looks back down at his shoes and lowers his voice, "No, I don't think you could have been mean enough for her to hit you. She shouldn't have hit you, I mean." He changes the subject slightly, "I...um...Kurt and I went looking for you. I was afraid that you were going to...uh...that you were going to hurt yourself or something."

Sue had thought that too. He bites his lip but quickly lets it go - it stings terribly and he sucks in a breath at the sharp pain. Finn gives him an odd look and he shrugs in response. Finn shrugs too.

"I wouldn't." His voice is surprisingly strong. That's something.

"Huh?"

"Hurt myself. I wouldn't do that."

He's too much of a coward for that.

"Okay. Okay, good." Finn takes his hands out of his pockets and gestures towards the couch, "I – uh, well, I have a lot of homework to do. I mean, I could do it at home but I thought maybe since I was already here, I could just sort of...hang out."

Will nods and watches as Finn's face twists into a look of relief. He remembers he needs to change and turns to head back into his bedroom.

He showers, shaves, changes into jeans and a sweatshirt, and then realizes with a start that he's hungry.

Not hungry. Starving.

He hasn't felt the sensation in more than a month and for a moment he can't place the feeling - thinks that he's sick perhaps, but then his stomach rumbles and he feels his gag reflex kicking in and he knows he needs food.

He grabs his phone off of the bed and checks his messages as he leaves the room. Heads for the kitchen. Finn watches him and then appears in the doorway of the kitchen as he clicks on Kurt's message.

1:58 am Message from Kurt Hummel: I hope you're okay. You should know I was wearing Prada Oxfords and they're ruined now. Just saying.

He isn't sure if Kurt is teasing. It's easier to tell with Sue or Santana. He thinks he is..._maybe_.

10:32 am Message to Kurt Hummel: I'm sorry. I will replace your shoes.

"Was that Quinn?" Finn asks hesitantly and Will's eyes pop up to meet his.

He bites his lip at the mention of her name. As his brain processes the pain emanating from his mouth, he remembers he's not supposed to do that anymore. Gets the bag of ice out of the freezer and holds it to his face. Finn watches him almost...hopefully. "Uh. No. Not her. Kurt."

"He was pretty pissed about walking around last night. Especially after the Santana thing..."

"She was upset about the vigil." His eyes go wide as soon as it's out of his mouth. Finn's do too. He was hiding from Finn in the alley. Finn wasn't supposed to know that. It's just so hard to focus in the morning.

"You were there? Where were you? Why...uh...were you like, hiding or...what?" He shoves his hands in his pockets. A mix of sadness and rejection flash across his face briefly and Will drops the ice on the counter and sucks his lip into his mouth..

_Fuck._

"It's...no, don't do that. It's...I get it. It's fine." Finn's hands go up as if he's trying to protect himself from a wild animal.

He kind of is...

Will lets his lip drop. Picks the ice back up. "I...uh...I just needed time. It's...I...I'm sorry."

"No. It's cool."

"It's not. I'm...I don't know what I'm doing, Finn."

Finn's eyes go wide again but Will's not sure why this time. Doesn't know it's because he actually called the teenager by name like he knows him. Remembers him. Respects him. "I don't usually know what I'm doing either."

Will nods. Doesn't know what to say so he says nothing. Walks to the fridge and pulls open the door. Secretly thanks Sue Sylvester for buying him food. He'll have to pay her back.

Eggs. And a turkey sandwich.

And chocolate chip cookies.

Perfect breakfast.

He turns his head because he can feel Finn looking at him. "Are you hungry?"

A normal person would offer food.

His face lights up. "I'm always hungry."

Finn makes two turkey sandwiches. Will makes eggs. Two plates and a bag of cookies joins them in the living room twenty minutes later. They sit on the couch, eat their not-quite-breakfast, and watch Sports Center. Will stays mostly focused throughout the meal. Finn notices and has to work to keep the grin off of his face.

Finn starts at his homework as Will washes the few dishes they dirtied. Normally he would take a nap about this time but he doesn't want to sleep while Finn is over even though his body is begging for it. A normal person would know that napping while a guest is over would be considered rude. He rubs his hands dry on his jeans and sits back on the couch. Watches sports highlights until Finn grunts next to him and slams his book shut.

He looks embarrassed when Will's eyes move to regard him, "I, uh...sometimes I don't get math. Or Spanish. Or English. Or...well, most things."

Math is easy. Math is numbers, not words. Words are hard.

_They didn't used to be._

Will flips the book back open to the page number written on the top of Finn's notebook paper. Pythagorean Theorem. Tenth grade geometry. He aced this class when he took it in ninth grade. He picks up Finn's pencil and draws out the equation. Makes sure Finn is watching and then solves it. Does the second problem and then hands the pencil back to Finn.

Finn stares from the paper to the book and back to the paper. He doesn't know why he expected Will's handwriting to be shaky and illegible but it's the same neat scrawl it's always been. He copies down the next problem and tries to repeat the steps that Will did for the other two. He smiles wide when Will picks up his second pencil and writes a correct mark next to the answer he came up with.

He does the next seventeen problems and each time he comes up with an answer, Will marks it correct. It's the first time this year that he's finished a math assignment and he's feeling elated. Will's eyes are alert and Finn smiles wider at that.

This is pretty much the best day that Finn has had since July. Well, it will be after he visits Quinn later.

Will's phone buzzes on the coffee table and he picks it up and flips to the messages.

12:45 pm Message from Kurt Hummel: Size ten. And I don't want a knock off pair. Let me know if you need help searching online before you buy anything bawdy.

He isn't sure whether Kurt is asking to come over or not. He's too hard to read and it makes his head ache with frustration. It's a different kind of ache than the one that is normally settled in his skull.

He remembers the look Kurt gave him in Quinn's hospital room. Doesn't think he would want to come over.

12:46 pm Message to Kurt Hummel: Okay. Email me a link.

Finn is pulling out his Spanish book when his phone buzzes again. He scrolls to the messages. Figures it's Kurt. It's not.

_Quinn._

12:50 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: My mom just brought my phone from home. Are you there? You promised...

He did indeed.

Finn flips to the correct page in the book and stares at the assignment. He was terrible at Spanish last year too. He only passed because Will was very generous with the extra credit.

12:50 pm Message to Quinn Fabray: Yes. How are you?

Finn looks at him imploringly. A half-grin on his face. Will slides the book slightly closer to himself so he can read the page. He should be teaching this class. He should be at school right now. The thought sends a little shock of panic into his chest and he has to close his eyes tight for a moment to stomp it down.

"I, uh, I could try to figure it out. You were just really good with the math and..."

"No. It's okay." He opens his eyes. Can't quite muster a smile but manages to look at Finn directly. That's something. Picks up the pencil and makes a chart on the paper on the correct conjugations of the verb 'leer'. "You just need to fill in the sentences."

Finn's eyes light up again and he sets about writing his sentences. Will watches. His phone buzzes again.

12:53 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: I'm okay. I miss you. Puck was here and he brought me ice cream. I think they'll let me out tomorrow but my mom is signing me up for counseling.

Good. He won't go himself but he's glad her mom is making her talk to someone. She needs someone to talk to.

12:54 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: Thank you for reminding me of Pooh last night

If only Pooh Bear could solve all of life's problems. Becky thought he could.

He looks down at Finn's work. All correct so far. Considers his reply to Quinn and can't come up with anything. He'll wait for her to write again. It's easier that way.

Finn finishes the sentences and closes his book. Smiles, "Miss Holiday isn't big into assigning homework. Probably because she doesn't feel like grading it. She's awesome that way but we aren't actually learning anything, I guess."

Will raises his eyebrows but keeps quiet. They're more than a month into school and the students are working on lessons that should have been completed in the first week. He's going to have to push everyone extra hard when he gets back to McKinley in order to catch them up to where they're supposed to be.

._..when he gets back to McKinley._

That thought hasn't crossed his mind until now. He isn't even sure if they would allow him back in the school - around children. They probably shouldn't...

Finn is looking at him expectantly. His chemistry book sitting in front of him. Will didn't see him take it out. He must have spaced for a couple of seconds.

_They really shouldn't allow him around children._

He helps Finn with his chemistry. Balancing formulas. Simple stuff but it keeps his mind focused. Finn has a smile on his face that doesn't go away. They're almost done when there is a knock at the door. Will's hand tightens on the pencil until his knuckles go white. Sucks his lip into his mouth.

Finn notices. Stands to answer the door and shoo the visitor away.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Kurt rolls over at the sound of his phone buzzing. Finn asking him if he's up yet. He wasn't. He is now. Stupid Finn Hudson.

He groans. Stands and stretches. Showers and gets dressed for the day.

His dad was sitting up when he walked in the door at 2:30 in the morning. He didn't even need to ask to be called out from school. His dad had already done so.

His dad is truly a fantastic human being.

He makes himself an omelet. Pours himself a glass of orange juice. Sits down to enjoy his food and some mindless daytime TV. Watching the train wreck that is Maury certainly can make one's own life seem much better in comparison.

He still hasn't had his first date. People at school still look at him like he's a leper. One of his best friends is probably suffering from post traumatic stress disorder and tried to kill herself the day before. She's in love with their much older teacher who is possibly psychotic and definitely at least slightly unhinged.

But at least none of them are on national TV getting a fourteenth paternity test and running offstage after being told "Ricky is NOT the father of your baby."

There is always that silver lining.

His phone buzzes again and he looks at the screen.

10:32 am Message from Mr. Schuester: I'm sorry. I will replace your shoes.

That was unexpected.

He gathered that Mr. Schue wasn't very talkative these days but this makes two texts that he has received the man in less than ten hours.

He considers his reply carefully but doesn't send it yet. If he plays this right he can scope information and relate it back to Quinn.

He gets up. Deposits his dirty dishes in the sink and heads out to his car.

Ten short minutes later and he's parked at the hospital and heading up to Quinn's room. Sometimes the fact that Lima is a small town is a good thing. Not usually...but this is one of those occasions.

Puck is in her room eating ice cream when he gets there. Quinn is sitting on the bed – her own melted bowl of mint chocolate chip balanced on her knees. She smiles at Kurt as he enters the room but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Good morning, Quinn. Noah Puckerman. How are we doing today?" He keeps his voice light. Doesn't bring up the reason she's in the hospital yet.

"I'm okay, Kurt. Thanks for visiting. And thanks for...well, thanks for finding me yesterday. I'm sorry that I did that to you." She drops her eyes. Stirs her ice cream nervously.

"I'm just glad that you're okay. Promise me you're never going to do anything like that ever again." His voice is stern now. He's sure she feels badly about her actions. He wants to be sure that she's not going to repeat them.

"Yeah. I promise. I kind of promised W..." She trails off.

"Will. You promised Will." Kurt says and she nods her head in conformation.

"Will?" Puck finally speaks. His mouth full of ice cream. It's the first thing he's eaten since yesterday afternoon. He was going to get actual breakfast food but he remembered Quinn's love of mint chocolate chip and well, he couldn't resist trying to make her happy.

"Mr. Schuester. He's 'Will' now apparently." Kurt answers and Puck narrows his eyes.

"Oh." Pauses. "Did you find him last night? How is he?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn asks. Finally raises her eyes to regard the two men in her room.

"Well, after he spoke with you yesterday he kind of ran off." Kurt replies gently. Sits at the foot of her bed and places his hand gently on her blanket covered leg.

"Because of me?" Her voice takes on a higher pitch and Kurt answers quickly to calm her fears.

"No, no, no. Miss Pillsbury was here and she spoke to him for a few minutes. She smacked him and he ran off. But he texted me last night and told me he was home."

"Oh." She drops her eyes again, "Yeah. He texted me last night too. I haven't answered yet. I...don't know what to say. Now that I know he's actually going to answer me, I can't think of anything to write. "

Puck narrows his eyes again, "I want a Schue text. I'm the badass that saved his life after all." He shoves more ice cream into his mouth. Quinn watches him carefully but doesn't say anything.

"Anyway." Kurt barely hides his disgust as ice cream dribbles down Puck's chin. "Speaking of Will...I was thinking I'd go visit him today. Finn has. He's probably over there right now knowing him. He owes me a pair of shoes and it's the perfect in...I get new Oxfords and I get to scope information on the mental faculties of our dear Glee director. It's time to start getting everyone back together. A reunion is definitely in order."

"I want to come." Puck says moodily. He doesn't want to be left out anymore. "Ain't no way I'm missing out."

Quinn smiles slightly, "Good luck with that. You know he probably won't open the door. Rachel said that he never opened the door when she knocked."

Kurt rolls his eyes, "Yeah, but would you open the door for Rachel Berry?"

"I actually like Rachel. She's been really nice to me. She cleaned my room a couple of times...and she brought me cookies." Quinn answers. Her voice quiet.

"Well, that may be so but she's still irritating in the best of times." He answers gently and then continues, "So the visit...good idea?"

"Yeah, go right ahead." She stirs her ice cream, "He could surprise us. Really, I'm surprised he showed up here yesterday."

"Why?"

She thinks for a moment before shrugging her shoulders, "You wouldn't get it, Puck. I...a lot of things happened and I...I thought he hated me. I kind of still thinks he does."

"Is that why you..." Puck trails off. He shouldn't have asked.

"No. That isn't the reason." She owes them at least a partial answer so she continues, "I...don't like the way people...look at me. And then Santana..." She stops, takes a deep breath, "Please don't ask me to explain it."

They don't.

Kurt pulls out his phone during the silence that settles in the room. Sends his reply.

12:45 pm Message to Mr. Schuester: Size ten. And I don't want a knock off pair. Let me know if you need help searching online before you buy anything bawdy.

His phone buzzes almost instantly.

12:46 pm Message from Mr. Schuester: Okay. Email me a link.

"Maybe you should answer his text. He seems to have his phone on him right now." He waves his own in demonstration.

Quinn does as she's told. Her phone buzzes a moment later and her heart skips a beat in excitement.

She looks at her two visitors and smiles, "He hasn't spoken to me in a really long time. After you visit him, you'll tell me about it, right? Finn said he'd try to take me over there."

"Of course." Kurt smiles and squeezes her leg reassuringly.

He stands and Puck follows. "We'll be back later tonight with the scoop."

They have to stop by the bathroom so Puck can wash his face but after a short drive spent in awkward silence, they arrive at the correct apartment building and head up the stairs. Puck knocks and a long minute later, Finn answers the door.

"I knew it!" Kurt exclaims.

"What are you two doing here?" Finn asks in a harsh whisper.

"We're visiting Mr. Schue, Dude. Move." Puck tries to push past but Finn stands resolutely in the way.

"No. Come on, he's finally having a good day and I don't want to ruin it. You should have called or something."

"I texted. He's going online shoe shopping with me. It'll be fun." Kurt keeps his voice light, waves his hand at Finn to signal him to move. He doesn't.

"He didn't seem to be expecting visitors." Finn wants to shove his hands in his pockets but then it would be too easy for them to get past him.

"Yeah, well, he has them. Yo, Mr. Schue!" Puck calls loudly. Finn pushes him slightly and Puck takes a step back

"Dude, shut up. And don't call him that. He doesn't like it."

"Listen here, Finn Hudson. I came here because..."

"It's okay." Will appears behind Finn, his voice quiet. A line of blood dripping from his lip down his chin. He doesn't seem to notice. "I...they...they can come in."

Puck gives Finn the evil eye as he enters. Kurt keeps his eyes warily on Will. He isn't sure what he's expecting him to do. He looks fairly innocent standing there in his white socks and over-sized clothes but appearances can be deceiving.

"Uh, Will..." Finn motions towards his mouth and Will's hand goes up to his face. He looks at the blood on his fingers and then turns silently and pads off to the bathroom.

"What are you doing here?" Puck asks – tone angry but voice quiet.

"Homework." Finn answers simply. Shoves his hands into his pockets and returns to the couch.

"Homework?" Kurt follows him into the other room. Looks from Finn to the books scattered around. Takes note of the two distinct forms of hand-writing on the papers littered about. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well..."

"I could use help on my homework too." Puck says moodily and then plops down on the chair in the corner.

"Have you even opened a book this year? Do you know how to open a book?"

"Shut it, Hummel."

Will reappears a moment later. His face clean. A sandwich bag full of ice in his left hand, He looks at each of them in turn and then drops his eyes and scurries to the couch to sit next to Finn.

He kind of reminds Kurt of a scared rabbit. He looks the man up and down...a very pale, skinny rabbit.

Quinn has the same quality about her.

He perches on the end of the couch. He wants to break the ice. "Why hello, William – I think you owe me a pair of shoes."

Will looks at him out of the corner of his eye. Bites his lip, winces, lets it fall, and then holds the ice up to it. "I...yeah. I told you to..."

"Send you the link. I know. I thought this would be better." He motions for the laptop sitting on the shelf beneath the TV. "Do you mind?"

Will shakes his head and Kurt stands to retrieve it. Sits back down and turns it on. Begins his search for the perfect shoes.

"It smells like bleach in here." Puck muses from the corner and three sets of eyes turn to look at him, "What? It does." He slouches in his chair. Nods his head once, "Sup, Mr. Sch...Will?"

Will lifts his hand and waves his fingers once in Puck's direction. Puck looks away. It's hard to look at him without picturing him covered in blood, laying in the ambulance, shaking violently.

Maybe he shouldn't have come - But he's Puckzilla and he doesn't run away from anything. If Finn can be here, so can he.

Finn picks back up his pencil and sets about finishing his work. Will sits completely rigid a couple of inches away and watches him write.

The room fills with an awkward silence that is only interrupted by Kurt's occasional typing and Finn's pencil scratching across his paper.

Everyone jumps when Kurt lets out a loud cheer, "What? I found them!" He gestures towards the screen.

"Dude, those are hideous." Puck says as he moves to stand behind the couch for a better view.

"Yeah, those are pretty...uh...I don't even know. Feminine? But like, in a grandmotherly type way." Finn scratches at the back of his neck nervously.

"What are you talking about?! These are great and they're on sale! They're the rage in Europe." He looks at the confused faces staring back at him, "You people don't know fashion!"

"They're not bad." Will adds quietly and Kurt's face lights up in response.

"Well, one of you has a little taste." He smirks triumphantly, "Credit card?"

Will drops his eyes quickly. He looks almost...embarrassed. "I...didn't know that you..." He pauses. Closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them and continuing. "...were coming. I don't have my wallet. It's still...the cops still have it...I think."

"The cops kept my wallet once too." Puck adds bitterly. "Apparently it's a crime to have a fake ID. It's an even bigger crime to have twelve."

"Yes. Yes it is." Kurt answers sarcastically and then turns back to Will, "You could call the police station and authorize someone to pick it up for you. Your parents..."

"No." Will answers reflexively and then drops his head further.

Kurt continues as if he wasn't interrupted, "Or Couch Sylvester...or one of us. I could go get it for you on my way home from school tomorrow. You just need to call tonight and tell them that I'm coming."

Will nods slowly after a moment and Kurt claps his hands. "Excellent. I'll just save this link and tomorrow we'll place the order."

"Dude, you're shoe obsessed. Like a girl." Puck leans back and regards Kurt warily. Changes the subject, "I'm starving. Got any food around here?"

"You just ate like a gallon of ice cream!" Kurt shrieks in disgust, "Do you know how many calories are in a gallon of ice cream!?"

"I dunno. Like fifty? Look Dude, I'm a man. I need chow time."

"I'm a man! Men don't eat like that! Unless they have a tape worm...do you, Noah? Have a tape worm?" Kurt smiles in mock sweetness. He looks at Puck but he's watching Will and Finn out of the corner of his eye. They're both staring between he and Puck with matching expressions of confusion. He feels momentarily badly for interrupting their bonding time.

"Men eat meat! And bread! And Twinkies! I need a constant stream of food or I can't focus on school work and shit."

"You must truly be starving then."

"Shut it, Hummel." Puck takes a step forward and Kurt flinches back.

"Dude." Finn warns. He scratches at the back of his neck and grins when Puck backs up again, "I'm actually hungry again too. It's lunch time. We should totally order Chinese."

"Yeah! With like eight sides of chicken wings. I need like a bucket of chicken." Puck's voice is loud with enthusiasm.

Kurt eyes him for a long moment. "Gross." Turns to Will who is silently staring at his socks, "Chinese, Will? I'm sure they have something that doesn't come in a bucket."

"Not anything good." Puck mutters and sits back down in his chair in the corner.

Will's eyes snap up at the sound of his name. He looks between the three of them. Nods slowly. Kurt is fairly certain that he has no idea what he is agreeing to. Throws him a bone. "Where is the nearest Chinese place? Do you have a menu?"

His eyes become more focused. Kurt was right. "Uh – around the corner. The menu is...should be...on top on the fridge."

Kurt stands and retrieves it. They discuss what to order. Kurt gets vegetarian lo mein. Finn offers to split an order of sesame chicken with Will who looks relieved that he doesn't have to make a decision on his own or open his mouth to speak. Puck orders forty dollars worth of appetizers for himself and Kurt eyes him disgustedly as he places the order. They ask for delivery and Puck gives his credit card information over the phone.

He wants to buy everyone lunch – even Hummel. He's awesome like that.

They sit and wait for their food to arrive. Another awkward silence fills the room. Surprisingly, it's Will who breaks it.

"Do uh...does your parents...do they know you're here?" He keeps his eyes on the floor.

Kurt smiles. He will admit that, at least in a stranger's notion, it may seem a bit untoward for three teenagers to be in the apartment of their thirty-year-old Glee Coach – especially this particular Glee Coach - during school hours but the situation certainly warrants it. They are here as friends. Not students. He is surprised though that Will has the mental capabilities to make that connection – what's right vs. what might be seen as wrong. "My dad wouldn't mind me being here. I'll fill him in on the details tonight though."

"Yeah, my mom won't care. After she heard the news she went to synagogue and prayed for you or some shit. Like you're some sort of Christian super hero or something." Puck adds.

He doesn't say that he went too.

Will raises his head. Blinks at him. Opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again. Continues his inspection of the ground.

"My mom – uh, she...I'll talk to her tonight." Finn drops his eyes too. Stares down at his shoes. Kurt looks between he and Will. They're both rigid. Eyes down. Hands folded between their knees. He wonders if they realize how alike their mannerisms are. It's almost weird.

"Do they...uh...I don't think they'd let you be here if they knew..." Will trails off. Bites his lip. Doesn't let it go this time.

He's clearly uncomfortable.

Kurt considers not finishing the sentence. He does anyway, "If they knew that you killed that man?"

Will tenses. Finn tenses next to him.

"My mom saw the news, Dude. I think everyone in town has." Puck says imploringly, "Everyone knows you had to waste the bastard. I would have done it too."

"Change the subject. Change the subject. Change the subject..." Finn whispers. Pleads.

"Why? He has to speak about it eventually." He looks at Will – blood now dripping from his lip to the hardwood floor. "Look, the last thing I'm going to say about it is this: I'm not going to pretend to know what happened. The true version anyway. Maybe you'll tell us one day and maybe you won't. I'm sure that you did what you did so that you and Quinn could get out of there. This town is eternally grateful to you so don't think that anyone is judging you negatively. They're not."

Will remains rigid for a moment longer. Lets his lip drop from his teeth. Stands, leaves the room, and returns a moment later with another bag of ice and a towel to clean the blood from the floor. He kneels and wipes it up. Leaves again and comes back without the towel. Sits on the couch near Finn and turns back on Sports Center. Effectively ignores the other occupants of the room. Kurt is sure that he would tell them all to leave if he could get the words out. He can't, so they stay.

"Dude, sport's bloopers! I love bloopers!" Puck sits on the ground next to the coffee table so he can see the TV. Finn closes up his books and glues his eyes to the screen. Will rests his legs on the coffee table and pretends to watch but Kurt can see his eyes drift shut before the first commercials start playing. His head lulls forward and Kurt knows that he is asleep.

He hears a knock. Quickly answers the door and takes the food from the delivery man. Passes out assorted cartons and forks.

They let Will sleep. He looks almost...peaceful. He stays asleep until Sue shows up two hours later clutching a bag of...Chinese takeout. She smiles slightly as she takes in the scene before her – the four men lounging around in front of the TV with junk food scattered about. It seems almost...normal.

But Sue Sylvester doesn't smile...at least not out of happiness. She wipes the look off of her face and does a half-assed job of looking angry. Shoos them out of the apartment.

That's fine.

They promised to visit Quinn anyway.

Finn wakes Will before they leave. He looks around the room in confusion until his memory catches up and he remembers why his apartment is full of people. "Bye, Will. I, uh...I could come over tomorrow after school if that's cool. If it's not, I totally understand and everything but I have a lot of homework and you were really awesome helping me..." He trails off.

Will rubs the back of his neck, yawns, and nods his head. Finn's eyes light up and he gathers his things and heads out of the apartment without a word to anyone else.

"I have a ton of homework too, you know, since I haven't done it all year. " Puck adds almost hopefully.

Will nods again and Puck rushes out after Finn. Kurt knows that he's going to catch a ride to the hospital with Finn. Puck doesn't like to be seen around town with Kurt Hummel.

It's fine.

Kurt thinks he's an idiot anyway.

"William, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then? For my shoes? Don't forget to make that call." Kurt smiles sweetly and is surprised when the man meets his eyes tiredly. Nods. "Excellent. Well, goodbye. Goodbye, Coach Sylvester. Have a fantastic night."

He leaves the apartment. He hasn't quite made up his mind about Will Schuester yet. Isn't sure what label to place on him. Psychotic? Depressed? Crazy? Killer? Protector?

Maybe there isn't a label for everything.


	36. Chapter 36

**BOOM! Update! If anyone is actually still reading this... :p**

**Believe it or not this story is winding down to the finish (huh?). Thank you all for your kind reviews and messages and for taking the time to read this over the past few months. **

**No violence today. Yay. **

*** … * … * … * … * … ***

Rachel isn't sure whether to cry or laugh. She feels like the world is playing a big joke on her and everyone is in on it except her. No one in Glee showed up for school Monday. . No one except for her. She monitored the hallways for their faces and didn't spot a single one.

Something was going on.

It took three phone calls – one unanswered to Tina, one ignored to Finn, and one finally answered to Mercedes, to find out what was going on. Quinn had tried to kill herself. Mr. Schue had shown up at the hospital, ignored them, and then ran off. Everyone was too upset to go to school the next day.

Why hadn't Finn called her? Why hadn't anyone called her?

It's Wednesday now. She saw Mike Chang walking to Physics earlier. She waved to Tina as the other girl exited the bus. She had waved back but hadn't initiated any sort of dialogue. Artie was in Pre-Cal with her third period and she had sat behind him but they were taking a test – no opportunity to talk.

She finally cornered Kurt near the bathrooms after forth period and forced him into the girl's room for a chat.

"Why is everyone ignoring me? Why am I the only one not in on this little reunion you all have going on?" She puts her hands on her hips. Tries to look menacing. Kurt looks at her with anything but fear in his eyes.

He waits for a sign that she's kidding. Receives none. "Oh. You're serious? Well, Rachel. I think this might be something that you may want to discuss with Finn. _I'm _not keeping you from anything."

"No one called to tell me about Quinn."

"Finn didn't seem to want you there." He crosses his own arms. Resists tapping his foot on the linoleum.

"You all went to Mr. Schue's yesterday. Finn told Artie and Artie told Mike and Mike told Tina and Tina told Mercedes and Mercedes told me. All of my information has to be filtered though like five people. Why?" She has tears in her eyes now. Doesn't wipe them away.

"Like I said, I think you need to have a discussion with Finn. Puck, Finn, and I went to see Mr. Schue, yes. He wouldn't have wanted anyone else there. He hardly tolerated our presence."

"And how is he?" She drops her arms to her sides, looks at the floor defeated.

"He's...he could be worse. He could be better. He doesn't talk much. Are you scoping out information to see when Glee is coming back because if you are, I wouldn't hold your..."

"Why does everyone think that?!" She stomps her foot. Angry now. Voice shrill, "Believe it or not I genuinely care about Mr. Schue and Quinn. I miss Glee terribly and really want us all to be a family again but not at their expense. I want them better first. Is that so hard to believe?"

He narrows his eyes at her watery face. "No, no it's not." Pauses for her to say something but she just crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at his face, "Look, if you want me to keep you posted on what is happening with Quinn and Mr. Schue, I can do that. But you need to talk to Finn. Corner him like you did to me or something. You're good at being relentless. Put it to use."

And then he turns on his heel and exits the room leaving her as alone physically as she feels emotionally.

She sleep walks through her next two classes and then trudges to the guidance office during last period – she's supposed to be studying for the SAT's but she can't deal with it right now. She just needs someone to talk to and although Miss Pillsbury wouldn't be her first choice, she's her only viable option at this point.

"Rachel!" Emma rubs her hands with more sanitizer than is necessary and motions for the seat across from her desk, "Hi. Uh - what uh – what can I do for you?"

"Miss Pillsbury, I am having some what of a crisis. As you may have noticed, the members of the Glee Club are having a difficult year."

"I...uh - " Emma starts, clearly uncomfortable with the topic but Rachel thankfully cuts her off.

"As their leader, I feel it is my responsibility to keep everyone together – a family so to speak. However, I seem to be being excluded from...well...everything. I need to be a part of the group again. I need my family back. Finn won't talk to me and whatever he does, everyone else does and so..."

Emma cuts her off this time, glad that the discussion has swayed to Finn and away from where she thought it was going – Quinn and _him, _"Rachel, do you know why Finn won't talk to you? Maybe you had a uh...maybe you had a fight or...something?"

"No." She pauses, looks away, and then looks back, "Well, yes. We didn't have a fight but he thinks I'm selfish."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"Well, I...I convinced him to sneak into Mr. Schue's apartment with me so I could ask him when Glee was coming back. I didn't mean anything negative behind it but Mr. Schue had...well, he had a bad reaction to our presence and Finn has been angry at me ever sense. He acts like I did it on purpose and now whenever I speak, he twists my words around so they sound...terrible. He thinks I'm terrible. I don't know what to do to fix it."

"Why...why would you sneak..." Emma starts but changes her mind. She can't think about Will right now. She still feels heartbroken over smacking him. She needs to call him. Needs to apologize. She needs to help Rachel first. "Well, Rachel. I think maybe if Finn thinks that you're being selfish you should try to find a way to prove to him that you're not."

"How...how do you suggest I do that?" Rachel asks quietly.

"Well, try taking an interest in the things that he's interested in...like football or..."

Rachel cuts her off, a slight annoyance in her tone, "All he's interested in these days is Quinn and Mr. Schue. He spends all day texting or talking about Quinn and then after school, he's been visiting Mr. Schue. I know he's going over there today. He told Artie and Artie told Mike and Mike told...and well, it eventually got back to me."

Emma fidgets at the news. If Will is accepting visitors maybe she could try to see him sometime this week. She needs to speak with her therapist about it. She considers Rachel's words for a moment, rubs more sanitizer in her hands, "Quinn was released from the hospital today. Maybe you could visit her and see how she is doing? If Finn sees that you're making an effort to be a good friend to her, maybe he'll appreciate you more."

Rachel smiles slightly and nods, "I _do_ want to see how she is doing." She looks at the wall, lost in thought, before smiling and standing, "I will bake her some sugar cookies tonight and bring them to her after school tomorrow. Thank you, Miss Pillsbury."

"You're welcome, Rachel." She smiles her own slight smile as Rachel leaves the office. Contemplates baking her own sugar cookies as an apology for an undeserved slap to the face.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn feels like shit. Once she left the hospital earlier in the day and returned to the loneliness of her room, she lost the will to do...well, anything. She just wants to sleep. Her sister pokes her head through the open door every hour or so to make sure she hasn't hung herself in the closet.

It's unnecessary. She told Will she wouldn't. She can't lie to him.

She misses her friends. She misses the Cheerios. She misses Coach Sue.

Her mom won't let her return to school until the therapist gives the approval. She's scheduled to meet with her the following day. Quinn wonders if she can fool the woman into thinking that she's cured. That she's normal. That she doesn't feel the weight of a pair of black eyes staring at her wherever she goes. She could flip her perfect hair, smile her perfect smile, laugh, nod...anything expected of her.

She's good at pretending. It could work.

Kurt, Finn, and Puck visited her at the hospital the evening before and told her that Will was doing better. That he was up and talking and not spacing out. She was grateful to them for coming, for talking to her, but it made her feel worse. She knows the news should have made her feel better but she just feels like a selfish bitch for feeling no joy for him. She wanted to be the one to help him. She wanted to be the one he needed like she had needed him so many times before.

She hasn't texted him again yet. She can't think of anything to say even though she desperately wants to say something. Desperately wants to speak to him...hold him...love him.

But what would she say?

_'Hey, sorry I didn't do anything while that psycho nearly killed you...twice. Friends?' _

Or maybe...

_'Remember when I stole away the baby you thought was yours and then murdered the little girl you loved like she was your own? Yeah...sorry about that.'_

She stares at her phone laying innocently on the bed next to her. Curses it silently in her head.

Time ticks. Her sister appears in the doorway again...and again...and again...and again...

Her phone buzzes and her eyes shoot open even though she doesn't remember closing them. Her hand reflexively moves to silence the vibration. It's ruining her quiet.

6:43 pm Message from Will Schuester: Hey

_Hey?...Hey?_

She's been agonizing over what to say to him for more than a day and he says 'hey'.

….

She isn't sure whether to be pissed, happy, or sad. She chooses to be nothing.

6:45 pm Message to Will Schuester: Hey

How profound.

6:46 pm Message from Will Schuester: How are you?

"How are you?" She reads it aloud. Incredulous. She feels like shit – angry and lonely and depressed. Does she lie? Does she tell the truth?

She settles on something in between.

6:48 pm Message to Will Schuester:I've been better...

He doesn't reply back for a few minutes and she wonders what he's doing. If he's laying in bed like she is. She misses laying on his chest – listening to his even breathing, his heartbeat. The thought forces her out of bed long enough to pull on his beat up leather jacket. She wraps it tightly around her body and lays back down. Pretends he is with her.

6:54 pm Message from Will Schuester: Would you rather have one incontinent lion who doesn't clean up after himself or a hundred noisy crickets to do all of your housework?

_What the fuck?_

Her mind drifts back to the basement. To all the silly questions he asked over those two and a half months – when she was sad or angry or depressed. Anything to diffuse her mood and make her smile. And she realizes with a start, for the third time since she was forced into that dungeon, that even after everything...he's just Will. After everything Monster did to him, after everything _she _did to him, after all the talk and stares and pity and condemnation – he's still just Will and she loves him. More than anything, she loves him.

And her heartbreaks a little more because she knows that she can't have him. That he can't love her back. Won't love her back.

Her hand goes to the keypad to type her response. The lion. Crickets are bugs and bugs are gross. It should be so easy – but she can't to do. She's hitting the call button over his name instead and listening with her ear pressed as tightly to the phone as possible. It rings.

And it rings...and it rings...and it rings...and then it stops.

She prepares herself to leave a voice mail. To beg him to talk to her because she _needs_ him to talk to her, but his recorded message never prompts her to leave a message. Never starts at all. She waits...and waits...and then realizes that the message hasn't started and her phone hasn't hung up which means...

"Will?" Her voice cracks slightly but there is more surprise than anything wrapped up in her tone.

She's greeted with more silence.

"Will? Are you...are you there? Please talk to me." She tries again and this time it's the desperation that shows itself in her voice.

She notices her sister poke her head into the room again and she glares in response. She must have gotten the message because she turns quickly and skulks away.

"I'm here." His voice is very quiet. Hardly a whisper but she hears him and lets out a muffled sob in reply. They're both quiet for a long moment and shockingly, it's him who breaks it first. "Lion or crickets?"

She laughs and she hears him sigh into the phone. She isn't sure what the sound means. "The lion. Crickets are bugs and bugs..."

"Are gross." He finishes her sentence when her voice trails off. She's told him before of her hatred of anything smaller than her hand, anything slimy, anything with more than four legs – he killed a lot of spiders during their time together. She told him before and he remembered.

"I miss you." She blurts it out. She's told him in a thousand texts but she needs to tell him now. Needs him to know.

There is a long pause and then his voice is back, quiet. "Quinn."

"I know you probably don't miss me. I know you hate me. I know that what I did was inexcusable. But..."

"Quinn." He cuts her off with just her name and they sit silently together even though there is a town separating their bodies. He speaks again after a very long time, "I...I...miss you too."

She sobs. Tries to get the words out through her tears. "But..."

"I don't hate you."

"But..."

"I don't blame you." His voice cracks for a moment before returning to its whisper state. She isn't sure if she believes him – he's never lied before but it's different now. Everything is different now. Maybe it's enough to hear the words now though.

"I love you. I love you so much." She's crying fully now. Tears stream down her face and soak her pillow. Her mother appears in the doorway.

"Who is that, Quinn?" Her mother asks warily. Everyone is wary around her these days.

Her eyes go to her mother just as she hears the familiar word whispered in her ear, "Don't."

She cries harder.

"Who is that, Quinn?" Her mother repeats, stepping into the room.

She takes a moment to compose herself. His word helps. _Don't. _It's always been like a smack to the face. Every time she declares her love – _don't._ Every time her hands wandered too far downward – _don't._ Every time she raised her arm to smack him – _don't. _And one time when Monster made her choose between...

She pinches her eyes shut tightly to chase off the memory. She still hasn't apologized to him for that one. She choose Becky over him again and again and again and then she choose herself over him. She choose herself and he hadn't spoken to her since. Almost two months without his voice. Until the hospital two days ago...

Until now.

"Quinn?"

"It's alright, Mom. I'm fine." She sits up and props herself against her pillows. She hasn't done so in several hours and her back protests the movement. She hides her discomfort and her mom doesn't seem to notice. She checks to make sure the counter on her phone is still running – that he hasn't hung up. He hasn't.

"Who is that, Quinn? You need to tell me or I'm going to..."

She cuts her mother off, "It's...it's Will. Mom, please don't."

Her mother's eyes widen slightly but then she nods and leaves the room silently. She knows that her daughter needs the man on the phone. She's needed him since she left that awful place. If he's talking to her now, she's not going to interrupt.

It's better late than never.

Quinn is silent for a long time. He is too. She can hear his quiet breathing. "Will."

"Quinn."

"I...I...can I call you again? Will you answer?" Her voice is now a whisper to match his.

He answers quickly, quietly, unemotionally, "Yes."

"I'm tired." And she is. Horribly so, even though it's not late. She feels like she hasn't slept properly in weeks.

She hasn't.

"You should sleep."

She can't let him go yet. Can't let him go at all. "Sing to me. Just for a minute." Silence is her only answer and it stretches wide until she feels compelled to break it, "I know I have no right to ask but you sang me to sleep for two months and I..."

His voice cuts her off. He's not quite singing – more like whispering with a slight melody in his voice but it's enough, "Don't wish it away. Don't look at it like it is forever. Between you and me, I can honestly say that things can only get better. And while I'm away, dust out the demons inside and it won't be long - Before you and me run to the place in our hearts, where we hide."

His voice picks up slightly and she clutches the phone to her ear with one hand while wrapping her other other tightly around her middle. Closes her eyes, pretends that he is there too – holding her while he sings, "And I guess that's why they call it the blues. Time on my hands can be time spent with you."

She feels herself relaxing as his voice warms her, calms her. She needed this, needed him. "Laughing like children. Living like lovers. Rolling like thunder..." His voice trails off and there is silence for another long moment before he's back. "I...I can't do this. Not...this. I..."

"It's okay. It's..." She keeps her eyes closed. Forces herself to stay relaxed.

"It's not...I'm...I'm sorry." She hears the note of panic in his voice. Wants to ease him like he eased her.

"Will, you don't have to sing again. I won't ask it of you. Please just...I'll call you back tomorrow. Please answer." She nearly begs it of him. Clutches the phone as tightly as possible.

"I...okay." It's not even a whisper. Merely a sigh. She knows the conversation is coming to an end.

"I love you."

Silence stretches once again. He swallows heavily. "Don't."

And then the screen on her phone lights up indicating the dropped call. She'll call him again the next day after her therapy session. Maybe if she gets the help everyone _thinks_ she needs, she can give him the help that she _knows_ he needs.

She closes her eyes and falls into a peacefully dreamless sleep for the first time in months.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Kurt is surprised that Will actually made the telephone call to the police station about his wallet. Surprised until the female officer behind the desk mentioned that it was Sue Sylvester who called to have the property released to him. Will had only taken the phone long enough to confirm that he was who he said he was and that he agreed to the request.

The officer hands over the wallet and a set of keys. She asks about Will's car – whether he wants it back or wants it scrapped. He has no idea but he tells her he will have Will call the station again even though he knows that the man most likely won't.

It was a shitty car anyway.

He's running late. A five page paper on Romeo and Juliet kept him after school for a few hours. Unlike Finn and Noah, he actually cares about his grades and hands homework in when it is due. The only downside to this is he now has to visit Will by himself since the other two left his apartment about an hour beforehand.

It wouldn't be a problem except something about Will's often vacant expression makes him nervous.

He knocks on the door when he arrives but receives no answer. He taps the wallet impatiently against his hand a few times before he tries the door knob. Finn and Puck wouldn't have locked up and he's hoping that Will hasn't yet.

He hasn't. The door swings open and he walks into the blackened apartment.

It feels like walking into a horror movie and he's the slutty co-ed who is too stupid to run out of the house instead of up the stairs.

He turns on the light and closes the door. "Will?"

He receives no answer. He wasn't expecting one. He simply wanted to hang on to his manners. Didn't want to barge into someone's home without announcing his presence.

There is a light from underneath the closed bedroom door and he approaches it. There is a faint buzzing sound coming from within and he listens carefully – trying to identify the noise. He can't. Knocks once and then pushes the door open.

He's not in there but there is a light visible under the closed bathroom door. It's like a game of Where's Waldo.

He knocks on the bathroom door. Pushes it open when he once again doesn't get a reply.

His father would be so disappointed with his manners.

Will is sitting on the side of the tub. An electric hair razor dangles loosely from his hand. His phone and a scattering of his hair lay by his feet. He doesn't look up when Kurt enters the bathroom

"Will?" Kurt tries but still doesn't get a response. Finn mentioned the blank stares – the spacing out. Kurt guesses that's what this is and he approaches carefully. He doesn't want to startle the man. Doesn't want to put himself in harm's way. When he's close enough to reach his hand out, he ducks down so that he's eye level and taps Will's shoulder. His body jerks slightly and his eyes snap up to meet Kurt's. "Hey, I knocked but...I guess you didn't hear me."

He doesn't answer but he shuts off the clippers and drops them to the ground as if he's been caught doing something bad. He turns his head away and sucks his lip into his mouth. Scrapes it against his teeth a few times until it draws blood.

"Don't do that." His voice is strong and sure even though the sight makes his stomach queasy. He stands upright and moves to leave the bathroom, "Clean up. I have your wallet. I'll be waiting in the kitchen."

He turns and leaves. Shuts the door behind him and walks slowly to the kitchen. Sits at the table and waits. He can't help and feel like he's done something wrong – as if he's scolded a small child for doing something they didn't know was bad.

In a way, that's exactly what he has done.

Five minutes or so pass before Will hesitantly walks into the kitchen. Half of his head shaved army short but uneven, the other half sticking up at odd angles. Kurt can't help but stare at it for a long moment – until Will starts to fidget uncomfortably.

He clears his throat and pulls the leather wallet and keys from the pocket of his Marc Jacob's jacket. Sets them on the table. Will approaches slowly and sits on the bench across from Kurt. Reaches out and slides the wallet towards himself, "I haven't seen this since..."

He trails off and looks away. Kurt regards him sadly, "I didn't know what to do about your car."

His grip tightens on the wallet. He keeps his eyes averted, "I..it would...it probably has blood..."

"I'll have Coach Sylvester tell them to junk it."

He nods. A long moment of silence stretches. A big part of Will's life is now stretching silences. He doesn't want Kurt to feel uncomfortable so he breaks it. "I...uh – Finn is bringing over his X-box tomorrow if you want to..."

"Video games are not really my thing but I'll come over and watch, I guess." He sits back. Keeps his wide blue eyes trained on the man in front of him as if he's going to do something unexpected at any moment. Will must catch on because he drops his head further – attempts to hide. Quinn does the same thing.

"Thank you for..." He trails off but holds the wallet up slightly. Opens it carefully, slips his credit card out, and slides it across the table. "You can order your shoes if...if you want to."

Kurt takes the credit card but doesn't stand. He reaches across the table and slides a notebook and pen sitting there towards himself. Opens it to a blank sheet of paper.

He can tell Will is trying. Trying to get better. Trying to act like his old self. It's not really working – he clearly needs intensive therapy. Needs to get out of this apartment and pick up a hobby of some sort. Occupy his body so his mind doesn't have time to dwell on other things. He's glad Finn is bringing over the video game for that reason. He wants to watch to gauge his reaction when he has something stimulating to occupy him. He wants to tell Quinn about it. Maybe give her some hope.

"Did something happened today? Is that why you were in the bathroom like that? Did Finn or Puck upset you?" The questions slip out of his mouth out of no where. He was wondering but not planning on asking. The silence was starting to get to him and he wonders how Will exists in a world with barely any sound at all. Finds it incredibly sad.

Will fidgets slightly. Watches Kurt fiddle with the pen. Whispers his reply, "I...uh...no. No they didn't do...we did homework. She...Quinn...called. She called and I did something I shouldn't have."

"What?" His own voice is angry now. If he hurt Quinn...

"I shouldn't have..." He closes his eyes, stops, and starts again, "I didn't want her to be sad."

"What did you do?" Kurt crosses his arms. It's frustrating to speak with someone when they only communicate in stutters and stops.

"I asked her about crickets."

"Huh?"

"And a lion."

"I'm not following."

"I texted her. I told her that I would...text her. But she called...and I sang to her and...talked to her. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have done that." He says the last part so quietly that Kurt is sure he's talking to himself – admitting it to himself, and not to Kurt.

"She needed you." Kurt answers slowly. "She needs to speak to you. She _wants_ to speak to you. You aren't doing anything wrong by talking to her if that's what she wants."

"She...I hurt her...so badly." He moves his hands to cover his face and Kurt thinks he's crying but when his hands move away several long seconds later, his face is dry.

"How? How did you hurt her?"

"I...she...when we were...in that place..." He stops. Sucks his lip into his mouth and hides his face in his hands again. Kurt knows he's pushed too far and he stops. He was talking about something that happened in that basement. He hurt Quinn in the basement. He can't try to force him to speak about that.

Therapy. He needs therapy. Needs to speak with a trained therapist.

He changes the subject completely.

"Do you remember that time around Christmas last year when you caught Azimio trying to hoist me up the flag pole?" He pauses and waits for the nod. When he receives one, he starts drawing lines on the paper in front of him.

Will drops his hands away from his face. Wipes the line of blood from his lip on to his sleeve. Watches intently as more lines are drawn on the paper.

"And you gave him detention for a month and let me hang out in your office during your free period?" Another nod. "You didn't make me talk about it. I was very appreciative of that. Sometimes talking about it doesn't do any good. And sometimes it helps to talk to someone who is trained to help."

He meets Will's eyes and then motions towards the paper between them.

"Instead, you played Tic Tac Toe with me for an hour even though you had that stack of Spanish essays sitting on your desk waiting to be graded. And then you walked me to Glee Club and let me sing Total Eclipse of the Heart even though it had nothing to do with the lesson that week."

Will nods again and Kurt draws an X in the center square. Holds the pen out to Will. He takes it slowly and draws an O above the X.

"None of us are ever going to make you talk if you don't want to. We understand that things are hard for you. We just want to be there for you like you were there for us so many times. Okay?" He draws his X to the right of the O.

Will nods again. Makes an O to block the X's.

"But..." He pauses as he makes his X. There is going to be a stale mate. There is always a stale mate when they play together. "You are going to let me fix your hair before I leave. You look ridiculous."

Will smirks.

It's a good sign.


	37. Chapter 37

Thank you all for reading and for the kind reviews and messages. It's much appreciated.

Rated R...sorry.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Monster is gone for twelve days. Twelve days with no beatings, rapes, games, or torment. Twelve days without the sound of the creaking door at the top of the stairs. Twelve days without the fear that sound drives into the hearts of the three people living in the basement.

The twelve days of reprieve would be a wonderful thing except they're out of food. The thought of starving to death causes desperation and sometimes desperation leads people to make mistakes. Critical mistakes. Mistakes that cannot be apologized for or erased.

* … * … * … * … *

The morning after Monster's attack, Quinn is the first one awake. She's hanging off of the couch and her back hurts because of the awkward angle that she has been sleeping in. Will must have rolled over in his sleep because he's on his back now, his head turned away from her. His arms folded neatly over his chest. He's taking up most of the couch and she knows that she has no hope of getting comfortable and finding sleep again unless she lays on top of him. She is quite sure that he wouldn't appreciate it at the moment if she did that so she gets up and checks on Becky.

She's asleep in the exact same position she was in the night before. Her even breathing ruffles the hair that has fallen into her face. Quinn's fingers twitch to move it away but she doesn't want to disturb her sleep. She turns away. Goes about her cleaning routine – washes her hair and brushes her teeth. Cleans up as best she can with a wet towel and soap. Pulls on clean clothes and then sits down by the couch. She wants one of them to wake up. Doesn't want to be alone even if they're angry with her. Even if they hate her.

A long while passes. Will's heavy breathing is the only thing disturbing the silence of the basement. He usually doesn't make noise in his sleep and Quinn is slightly worried about that but considering everything else, she doesn't let herself worry too much. Eventually the lack of noise gets to be too much and she crawls across the floor to turn on the TV. Flips to a rerun of Home Improvement and then crawls back to sit against the couch again.

She measures the passage of time in sitcoms. Two episodes of Home Improvement, two episodes of Friends, and half an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond – that's how long it takes Becky to stir behind her.

She's up immediately. Makes her way to the bed where Becky is struggling to untangle herself from the blankets and sit up. "Honey, let me help you."

And she does. She pulls away the blankets. Brushes her hair away from her face. Helps her stand.

"My back really hurts." She says it quietly, groggily. Hardly any emotion in her voice. "And I have to pee."

"Do you want me to help..."

Becky cuts her off, "No. I can do it. Don't peek! My brother is always peeking."

She hobbles off to the toilet and Quinn breathes a sigh of relief. Becky doesn't seem angry. It doesn't seem as though she blames Quinn for the beating. She seems her normal, feisty self.

She's back a few minutes later, "Will you put medicine on it for me? Was there a lot of blood? It really hurt – especially the last time. I feel bad for Will now because he's been hit so many times. Oh. Do you think he's okay? I wonder..."

Quinn cuts her off this time, "He's back. He's asleep on the couch. You can wake him up in a little while." She moves to get the box full of medical supplies, "Let's get you cleaned up first."

Becky moves her arms stiffly but manages to hold up her shirt high enough for Quinn to clean the cuts and wrap them with bandages. They should heal nicely. Should leave only faint scars. Quinn knows that the memories of the beating won't fade the same way.

"Can we have a lazy day today? When I stay home from school my mom lets me lay on the couch and watch TV all day. Will won't like it but he probably needs a lazy day too. "

She thinks back to last night - to his cloudy eyes, to the words that didn't make sense, to the sticky blood on his pants and she nods. Manages a small smile as she looks down at the girl. They could all use a lazy day. "Why don't you wake him up? He'll be so happy to see you. He asked about you last night."

Becky brightens and returns the smile. Walks slowly across the room and kneels near the top of the couch to wake up Will. Quinn hears her call his name a few times and then she's standing again. Her voice sounds slightly panicked. "Quinn? His nose is bleeding and he's not waking up."

Quinn hasn't moved so fast in a long, long while. She's at the couch and bending over Will a heartbeat later. She rolls his head towards her gently. His face is peaceful enough but there is a sticky blood tinted fluid underneath his nose, down his chin. She shakes his shoulders. "Will? Will!"

She didn't check on him. She knew he had hit his head again – knew he wasn't well the night before and she didn't check on him. He was laying here like this and she did nothing.

She failed him again.

She straightens. Her hands go up to her own hair and she grips it in frustration. How could she be so careless?!

Becky takes her place. She is relatively calm and Quinn envies her even though she is nine and the idea of that is some how absurd. She wishes she could be that in control.

Becky sits next to Will and shakes his shoulders lightly for a moment. When he doesn't respond, she moves her hand to his face and lifts up his eyelid while shaking his shoulder with her other hand. "Will?"

He jerks awake. Grabs her wrist tightly with his right hand. It only takes a second for him to realize who is next to him and he loosens his hold but doesn't let go completely. "Becky?"

"Hey, are you okay? You need to blow your nose. I had a super nose bleed once. I fell out of a tree and banged it on the handle of my scooter and there was blood every where. I didn't break it though but I had to blow my nose a bunch afterward to get all the gross stuff out of it." She smiles down at him. She's glad he's awake. She was scared for him. She likes Will. He's fun and he talks to her like she's an adult and not a little kid. She doesn't want anything bad to happen to him anymore.

His hand goes up to his face and he wipes at the drying fluid underneath his nose. He looks forlornly at his palm and then wipes it on his chest. He drops Becky's wrist and tries to smile at her. It comes out as a twisted grimace instead.

Quinn is next to him a second later, "We couldn't wake you up."

"My head hurts." His eyes go from Becky up to her, "I'm going to lay down on the bed for..."

"No you're not." Quinn snaps and his eyebrows shoot up. She feels badly for not allowing him to sleep after everything else that she's done to him but she knows he can't sleep right now. Shouldn't sleep right now. She needs to be the voice of reason, "You obviously have a head injury. If your nose is bleeding, it's a really bad one. You have to stay awake for a while. Use the bathroom and get cleaned up. I'll get some food ready and we'll watch something on TV." She remembers the blood on his pants and lowers her voice to just above a whisper, "Do you need help cleaning up?"

He stares at her for a long moment before looking to Becky. Becky smiles sadly at him and then stands. She and Quinn help him to his feet but it's the only aid that he accepts. He gingerly walks towards the sink and they both look away to give him privacy. Quinn isn't going to hurt his pride anymore than it probably already is.

She gets their food ready and Becky kneels in front of the TV and flips through the channels. They don't start eating until Will is done cleaning up and using the bathroom. He reappears a long time later – face shaved and dressed in clean clothes. There is no more blood on his face but his eyes are very glassy.

"How are your burns? Do you need me to..."

"No." He cuts her off. Kneels on the floor slowly and leans back against the couch. Quinn knows why he isn't sitting on the couch with them but she doesn't bring it up. She isn't going to bring it up. She hands him his soup, crackers, and bread and he accepts them.

They eat without speaking. Toy Story is on and Becky is enraptured by it. Quinn watches half-heartily. Will glances at the screen every now and then but his attention is mostly focused on a spot on the wall to his left. Quinn watches his eyes twitch as if he's watching something that is moving instead of empty space. Finally she can't take it anymore. A commercial comes on and she swallows back the rest of her soup before speaking, "What are you looking at?"

Becky looks at her first. Will startles and turns his eyes to face her as well. They both stare at her questioningly.

"Is there a bug on the wall?"

"A bug? Gross. Squish it." Becky wrinkles her nose as she shoves her last cracker in her mouth.

Will's eyes move from Quinn to the wall and back again. "You don't see them?"

"See who? What?" She moves to place her container on the ground and looks harder at the wall. She isn't sure what she's supposed to see but there is nothing there.

His eyes go back to the wall and then he stands abruptly but stiffly. "Nothing. I'm going to lay down."

"You didn't eat!" Becky shrieks, struggling to rise from her stomach down position on the couch. He puts his hand on her head gently to stop her movement and she stills. She settles back down and he mutters a sorry in response.

"No. Sit down. You can't..."

"I'm not a child, Quinn." He cuts her off. Snaps loudly and limps slowly towards the beds. She's up quickly – grabs his wrist to stop him. He tries to jerk his hand away but can't. Mutters frustratedly, "Don't."

She holds on strong. "What's the matter? You can't sleep. You have a head injury and it will make it worse." She pulls slightly on his arm and he takes a step towards her.

"This is my favorite movie but you can pick the show if you don't like Toy Story." Becky squeaks from the couch and that does it. She's selfless and innocent and he doesn't want her to see him and Quinn fighting. He moves back to kneel at her feet. Tries to ignore Terri and Emma and Sue as they stand near the wall and yell their hateful words at him.

Maybe they aren't really there. Maybe he's just smacked his head one too many times and now he's going insane.

He's not sure which is worse – them being real or him being crazy.

Quinn sits back down too. They finish Toy Story without incident. Will keeps his eyes on the screen for the rest of the movie – only looking away to watch Becky laugh at Mr. Potato Head. He likes watching her laugh. Sue's voice slowly fades away and he resists the urge to turn his head. Eventually Terri's voice disappears too. Emma calls him a slut a few more times and then she is gone too. His head is still splitting but it gets easier to focus now that the only sounds are from the cartoon on TV and Becky's occasional cheerful giggling.

The movie ends. The Lion King comes on directly afterward. Becky asks Will to sit and build towers with her out of the growing pile of empty soup containers. He doesn't want to. His head hurts. His back hurts. Monster brutalized him and the pain and shame of that is nearly crippling but he agrees. He agrees because he blames himself for her injuries and she asks him to play with her with such hope in her voice that he can't say no.

Quinn joins them.

With a little imagination, their towering pile of empty Cambell's cups is soon transformed into a castle fit for a princess. Becky happily takes on the role. They don't play dress up as they once would have – Becky and Will are too sore and Quinn is not in the mood, but they take turns making up a story about a princess and a prince who fall in love despite the influence of an evil queen and her dastardly henchmen. Becky's laugh becomes contagious as the story becomes more and more ridiculous. Quinn notices Will's eyes losing their glassy appearance – returning to normal. He loosens up and Quinn does too.

Maybe neither of them blame her for what happened the night before. She still blames herself but it's easier knowing that maybe they don't hate her for letting Monster beat Becky and rape Will.

It's Becky who ends the story a few hours later. She's getting tired despite the fact that she's only been awake for a little more than eight hours. Her body needs sleep to heal itself. They settle down with more soup and crackers. Becky sits on the floor because she feels badly that Will is down there by himself even though she doesn't understand why he is exactly.

Quinn joins them.

They watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy and most of The Biggest Loser before Becky starts to nod off and Quinn tells her that it's time for bed. She doesn't argue. She pads off to brush her teeth and use the bathroom before sitting down on her bed. Quinn cleans her back again and replaces the bandages before Becky lays down.

Will kneels so that they are eye level, faces only a few inches apart. His voice is very quiet. "Thanks for the fun time tonight, kiddo."

"Nope. Thank you. I like it when we get to play and have fun. When we get out of here, will you come over? My birthday isn't too far off and we're going to have a really cool party. I think my mom and dad would really like you. Not my brother though. He doesn't like anyone. Well, maybe he would like you, Quinn. He really likes girls." She yawns. Pats his cheek gently and then keeps her hand there.

He smiles at her even though he doesn't think their ever getting out, "I'll come over if you'll come and watch the Glee Club perform. You can be my special guest."

She nods.

Quinn watches them quietly. They really do have a special relationship. Will is really good with kids. He would have been really good with her kid if circumstances had been different. He leans forward and kisses her temple. Whispers a soft 'good-night' into her hair and then stands. She reaches out and squeezes his hand as he turns to walk away and Quinn catches the upward pull of his lips as he turns away from them and moves to lay on the couch.

She takes his spot, kneeling next to Becky. They hold hands and say their prayer. Quinn wishes her a good-night and then joins Will on the couch. It's only a few moments later that they hear her breath even out in sleep.

Will is laying on his back with his head propped up on his arm. She lifts his legs a bit and slides underneath them, laying his socked feet on her lap and resting her arms across his lower shins. When she chances a glance at his face, his attention moves from Law and Order to her. "How is your head?"

"It hurts." He answers simply and his eyes move back to the TV.

"How long has it hurt that badly?" She massages the hard muscles in his lower legs as she speaks.

His eyes once again travel from the TV to her face and then settle on her hands, "That tickles."

"Does it feel good?" She smiles slightly and he nods. She's not going to let him deflect, "How long has it hurt like that? Do you want some pain pills?"

"I don't think it would help. It hasn't stopped hurting at all really since he...uh...since he hit me with the belt that first time. It's just different levels of hurt I guess. It's worse now. I think my head hit the floor again last night." He fidgets with a loose thread on the couch. She wants to reach out and still his hand but she doesn't.

"That was weeks ago. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Complain about a headache with everything else going on? Quinn..."

She cuts him off, annoyed. "I think you have a serious head injury, Will. You've hit it so many times..."

He cuts her off this time, "Maybe. I have a pretty thick skull though. It just needs ice...or something."

She nods because she doesn't know what else to do. Even if she's right and he has a concussion or something worse, there is nothing she can do about it here, "You do have a pretty thick skull, Mr. Schuester."

She meant it as a joke but by the way his eyes widen, she can tell something is not right. Images of Monster on top of his body flash through his mind. Images of Quinn laying on the ground after being beat with the gun flash through his mind. Images of Becky crying in pain flash through his mind. Mr. Schuester wouldn't have allowed any of those things. Dirty, pathetic Will had. He shakes his head, "Please don't call me that. I...please."

She nods and his eyes move away from her. She doesn't understand but if he doesn't like it, she won't do it again. She changes the subject, "Do you want to see if there is a movie on?"

"If I have to watch any more TV today, I may hurtle the thing at the wall." He mutters it but then turns his head to smirk at her and she's struck by the same realization she had weeks before. He's been beat, raped, yelled at, put through traumas and heartache and he's still just Will. She feels like a completely different person at times but he's still just Will.

Nice, caring, funny Will.

She's careful. Careful because she knows he was hurt so badly the night before, knows he is tired and in pain. She doesn't want him to have a bad reaction to her. She slides out from beneath his legs and straddles his thighs. Leans down and covers his body with her own. Lays her head against his shoulder. He's stiff for a moment before he relaxes. "I just want to listen to your heartbeat for a little while."

He shifts slightly and then his arm is around her. His hand is very warm on her back. She's cold again and it feels wonderful. She would put his jacket back on but it's too far away right now and she doesn't want to get up. She kisses his chest just above his heart and then snuggles her face there. They're both still for a long time. The 11 o'clock news thankfully doesn't have any stories about their case. The Tonight Show is on before Quinn moves her head to look up at his face.

He's asleep. He's still because he fell asleep. She feels cheated some how. Shakes him awake and feels like a giant bitch for doing so. He can't sleep yet. She's watched enough hospital shows to know that he shouldn't be sleeping. "Come on. Up. We can play a game if you want."

"Quinn." He drags out her name in a whine and she thinks it's cute even though he probably doesn't mean it that way. "I really just want to sleep."

She knows that she is fighting a losing battle. She needs to use his chivalry against him. "I'm lonely and scared. Will you stay up with me for a little while?"

He groans but agrees, "Fine. I'm not watching any more TV though. And I don't want to play a game."

"That doesn't leave many options." She huffs.

"Sure. Sleep is an option."

"We could talk." She angles her head so see can look him in the eye.

"We could. What would you like to talk about?"

She needs to think of something that will get him talking for a while. "Glee Club. What songs are we singing next year?"

The look in his eye lets her know that he knows what she's doing but it starts an hour long discussion of the merits of Motown and disco anyway. He's alert and focused and his voice rumbles in her ear soothingly as he speaks about Sam Cooke and Otis Redding and who could do them proper justice. The conversation ends when Quinn suggests that Mike, Puck, and Finn could pull off a lovely Supremes number – complete with sequined gowns. Will laughs and it's infectious. She giggles and watches his face brighten in a smile and she can't help herself, her lips find his, silencing his chuckles.

He stiffens and she's afraid he'll pull away. She knows why. Maybe it's too soon after Monster's torture but she needs him to know that he's not alone. That someone wants him and needs him and loves him and doesn't just want to use and hurt him – because even before Monster it seems that's all his life was filled with. People who hurt him. People who used him.

Maybe he understands because he relaxes after a few seconds. Holds her more tightly. Lets her tongue slip into his warm mouth to battle with his own for a long while until her hand starts to slide down to his waist and he pulls away just far enough to breathe against her lips, "Don't."

"I'm not. I...I just want to show you that I love you." She pecks his lips. His cheeks. His eyelids.

"Don't." But he moves his head to the side when she starts to suck at the soft skin beneath his ear.

"I want to show you love. Not hurt or hate or ulterior motives. I love you because you're you not because of who I want you to be or what you can give me.." She moves back to look down at his face.

He looks back at her blankly. Blinks a couple of times and then scrunches his eyebrows together. "What?"

"Your mom. Your wife. Everyone...they..." She stops and starts again. She wants to comfort him like he has done for her. Even if he doesn't know he needs it, she wants to say it. "I don't want anything from you. I don't need anything from you except you. I will never tell you that you're stupid." She kisses his forehead. "I will never tell you that you're worthless." Another kiss. "I will never call you a slut or make you feel dirty."

"Don't, Quinn." His voice cracks and she looks down at his wet eyes. Brushes the tears away with her thumbs and then kisses his mouth again.

"I just want you to know. In case we don't get out, in case we never get out or we die tomorrow or he ever touches you again or touches me or you ever feel sad or alone – I want you to know that I love you so much." She kisses him again and when she pulls back, his mouth follows hers and he sobs, just once, against her lips.

She feels her own tears slide down her face to mingle with his.

It's a long time later that she pulls away from him. Checks the time by the program on the TV – infomercials. It's sometime after two in the morning. She looks back down at him sweetly. His lips are swollen. His cheeks are flushed. His curls are a mess.

She probably looks the same way. She doesn't care.

"I think it should be okay for you to sleep for a little while now."

He blinks and then nods but doesn't move. "Thank you for what you said, Quinn."

"I meant it. I mean it." She smiles but he doesn't return it. He's looking at her like she's something special and beautiful and it makes her heart sore with hope. He doesn't hate her. He doesn't blame her. Maybe he could learn to love her.

His voice lowers slightly as if he doesn't want anyone else to hear him, "They haven't been back for hours. I think maybe they'll tell someone we're down here and we can get rescued. I think they probably like you and Becky even if they hate me."

And just like that – her hope is shattered.

"Who? Who are you talking about?"

"Emma and Terri and Sue and..." He trails off. Looks ashamed. Her heart hammers in her chest.

"Will, they weren't here. It's in your head."

He nods but doesn't look all that convinced.

"Does your head hurt worse than it did?"

"I'm...I'm just tired. I...we're the only ones here. And Becky. I know that. " He moves to stand then and she follows him. "I'm going to use the bathroom. We'll go to bed. I'm just tired."

She gives him time to wash up and use the bathroom and then she does so too.

They need to get out of here. She knows that he's not okay, that something is seriously wrong. They can't put it off anymore.

She lays down next to him and snuggles into his side. He kisses her forehead and mutters a good-night. She does too.

The next day they'll start working on their escape plan.

* … * … * … * … * … * … * … *

Becky inventories their supplies the next morning. They have thirty two cups of soup, a loaf of bread, and a half a box of crackers left. This translates into roughly seven days worth of food if they stretch it. Quinn suspects that Monster will be back before then to replenish their supply and do something awful to one of them.

It's a waiting game.

They sit down and discuss their escape plan. Will is doing a lot better focusing after he's slept – he wakes up alert and doesn't seem confused. Quinn doesn't want Becky involved in their discussion but Will insists that she should be in case things go wrong and they need to quickly change their plans. Quinn agrees mostly because he looks so sure of himself and it's a welcomed change to the glazed over confusion that he's been exhibiting the past few days.

When Monster appears next, Will will hit him across the eyes with Becky's belt and Quinn will either pick up the gun when he drops it or she'll kick him in the groin to further incapacitate him while Will hits or chokes him with the belt. Becky will duck behind the couch out of the way of the gun and the belt.

Will is still sore, still can't walk properly because of Monster's abuse, but he starts slowly exercising to build up his strength.

They create a new routine.

They wake up around nine. Becky gets their breakfast ready while Quinn washes up. They eat while watching cartoons and then Becky washes up while Quinn straightens up and Will does push ups and crunches. Despite the abuse he has taken over the past month and a half, it isn't difficult to get back into an exercise routine. Quinn and Becky are encouraging and Terri, Emma, Sue, and his parents have not been back to spew their hate at him.

They play with Becky – bowling and blocks with empty soup cups, dress up with the musty clothes from the closet, hand games, and story time. Will starts teaching her Spanish again. Quinn teaches her some basic French and algebra. They sing together while Quinn gets their dinner ready. More TV and then bedtime for Becky. Will washes up and then he and Quinn snuggle on the couch and watch whatever movie or TV show that she has chosen for the evening. It's never long before one of them initiates a kiss that leads to another that leads to another that leads to them both panting for breath a few hours later.

It never goes further despite Quinn's attempts. As soon as her hand reaches his waist, he pulls away. He doesn't want her to break her promise to herself about waiting until marriage. He doesn't want to touch her that way – she's young and he's dirty. Monster may have given him something. He doesn't want to take that chance.

Maybe if they ever get out. Maybe when she's older and he's clean again and is sure he doesn't have some terrible disease or infection. Maybe if he ever buys a ring and she says yes and they walk down an aisle...

Maybe probably won't happen but there is a small amount of hope that maybe it could.

Two days pass and then three and then four and then five. Quinn knows they're going to run out of food before Monster comes back. She thinks he's doing it on purpose to torment them in a new way. Will notices the dwindling soup containers too but doesn't mention it. He doesn't want to worry Becky.

Days six and seven pass and then they finish the last of the crackers. Day eight and the soup is gone too. Their routine continues despite their worry.

Day nine and Will's hunger gag reflex kicks in. He vomits twice and is left with a pounding headache that keeps him on the couch for the rest of the day with a clouded mind although he thankfully doesn't see anything or anyone who isn't actually there. Becky lays with him, his arm slung over her in a fatherly embrace, and they watch TV for the entire day. Quinn naps because it's better than feeling hunger and she's too worried to sit still while awake.

Day ten and all three of them are bloated from guzzling water to fill their stomachs and curb the hunger pains. Will keeps up his exercise routine. He has been jogging in circles around part of the room because he's stir crazy and it doesn't hurt anymore to move his legs. Becky naps. Quinn naps. Will wakes them both up mid-afternoon and makes them play dress up with him. He wants to keep their spirits up. Monster wants to keep them – doesn't want them dead. He told him so.

It wouldn't be the first time that Monster lied.

Day eleven and they're all feeling hungry and desperate. Quinn doesn't want to starve to death. Doesn't want Will and Becky to starve to death. It will take weeks...months. One of them will succumb and then another and then the third person will be left with the corpses of the other two. She's so unlucky that she knows she will be the last one left alive. She'll have to live out her last days with their rotting corpses.

If they're going to die, she would rather it be quick. She would rather Monster walk down the stairs and put a bullet in each of their heads.

Day twelve and everything changes.

They are in the middle of a rather rousing game of soup cup bowling when the door creaks at the top of the stairs. Becky is laughing and she and Will both miss the sound but Quinn is closer and she hears it.

"Will, belt!" She hisses loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough for Monster to hear.

He blinks at her before her meaning registers. He grabs the belt, which he has been keeping in reach at all times, and positions himself at the bottom of the stairs where he knows Monster won't see him until it's too late. Becky rushes behind the couch. Quinn moves into position to strike.

The door pushes open more widely but Will never hears the click of it closing again. They have a chance. Even if they can't get the key, they have a chance to run. To escape. This could work...

Will brings the belt back over his shoulder and waits. Monster's feet seem to move in slow motion. Every click of his shoes reverberates loudly in the concrete room. And then he's down the stairs and Will baseball swings the belt, hitting him across the face with it.

He misses his mark.

Monster screams. Howls in pain and stumbles back gripping his face with the hand not holding the gun. There is blood dripping between his fingers. Quinn rushes forward and then stops. The gun is pointing too closely to her for her to attack without getting shot. Will feels sick. He brings the belt back again and hesitates a moment before snapping it forward again.

Mistake.

Too many mistakes.

Monster manages to grab a hold of the belt. He hisses in pain as it rips open the skin of his palm but he manages to hold on. His face is dripping blood – a deep welt stretches from his ear to his mouth. He holds the belt with one hand and points the gun at Will's chest with the other.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

It's a mantra in his head. He's going to die. They're going to die. And all he can think is _Fuck_.

His head clears. They can get away. He can do this.

He grips the belt with both hands and yanks hard, dragging Monster forward. "Run! Quinn, Becky, run!"

And they do but not quickly enough. Becky is around the couch and half way up the stairs and Quinn is right behind her when the gun goes off and stops them in their tracks. The loud pop echoes off the walls and causes their ears to ring loudly. Blood pump hotly. Hearts pound wildly.

For a moment, Quinn thinks he shot Will but he's still standing there with his hands on the belt. Monster pointing the gun directly at his chest.

It was a warning shot.

"How the fuck am I supposed to go to work like this!? You ruined everything!" He shouts in Will's face but Will is looking at her. Urging her to go up the stairs. He's sacrificing himself. Monster can't shoot all three of them.

She sees the gun pointing at his heart and can't move. Another mistake.

Becky is ducked down with her arms over her head, waiting for Quinn to make a move. Looking to her as an adult.

Quinn feels like a scared, lost child.

Monster yanks the belt hard and Will stumbles forward to his knees and just like that their hope of escape is gone. He feels the gun against the back of his head. Wants to look up and see Quinn and Becky before the bullet tears through his brain but Monster is pressing so hard, he can't move his head.

He closes his eyes and waits.

And waits.

And nothing happens.

The gun moves and he hears the click of Monster's shoes as he moves a few inches.

His eyes open and he looks up into Monster's angry eyes. Tries to ignore the gun now pointing at his face. He's clearly thinking about something. 

_Something horrible. Something terrible. Something worse than death._

Quinn is sobbing on the stairs. He can't hear Becky. Maybe she got away? "Will, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have made you do this. You didn't want to do this. Will, I'm so, so sorry."

He can hardly understand her words over her ugly sobs. He doesn't blame her. They needed to try. He wants to tell her but then the gun is slammed hard across his cheek and the words die in his throat and his body hits the ground.

"Mom is going to play a game!" Monster points the game at Quinn and Becky and motions for them to come down the stairs. He pushes Quinn to the ground to his left and Becky to the ground next to Will. Will manages to get back to his knees quickly although he's pretty sure Monster may have broken a bone in his face. It hurts terribly. He reaches out and grabs Becky's hand, tugging her to his side and slightly behind him. She didn't get away. Remorse floods him. She tucks her face into his arm and squeezes his hand tightly. Cries softly.

"I love you, Becky." He says it even as Monster points the gun angrily at his face. He's going to die anyway. He turns his eyes away from the weapon, towards Quinn. He waits a beat for her to look him in the eye. "Quinn, I lo..."

A kick to his gut silences him and he bends forward, coughing. He manages to keep a hold of Becky's hand.

"I love you, Will. Quinn." Becky repeats him softly when his coughing has ended. Her resolve is back. The strong-willed child he loves so much has surfaced. Her tears are gone. She squeezes his hand.

"I love you both. So much." Quinn has tears and snot on her face. She wants to wipe it away. She doesn't want to die looking like that. It's stupid. It's vain. She knows it.

"Well, isn't that fucking special! Aren't you all fucking special!" Monster screams, "Why can't any of you love me!? Why am I left out again!?"

Will stares at him coldly. He already knows this is going to end right now. It doesn't matter anymore. "You are a monster and a devil and you don't deserve love. Your mother doesn't love you because she knows what you are. She knows..."

"Shut the fuck up!" He hits Will across the face again and blood splatters across the floor. He bit his tongue with the force of the hit and blood spews out of his mouth like a grotesque sprinkler. He doesn't fall this time. Becky clutches his hand more tightly.

"Mom, pick one!" Monster screams at Quinn.

"Wh...what?" Quinn doesn't know what he means. Pick one? For what?

"One of them is going to die right now. Pick one!"

Her eyes go wide and her heart feels as though it's going to hammer out of her chest. She can't.

_She can't!_

"Quinn, just do it." She catches Will's eyes and he's resigned. He wants her to choose him.

_She can't!_

"You aren't supposed to speak!" He smacks Will upside the head with his free hand. The blood from the belt wound is still covering his palm and some of it gets into Will's hair. Quinn can't take her eyes off of the red streak. "Don't forget the rules! If you speak, someone will get hurt! Mom! Choose now or they both die!"

Becky tucks herself more tightly against Will's side, trying to make herself as small as possible. Her hand is hot in his.

"Will. I'm so, so, so sorry. I love you. I love you so much." Quinn sobs loudly, no longer caring about the snot and tears covering her face. His mouth quirks up into a small smile and his free hand goes over his heart. He loves her too. He can't say it. Monster will hurt Becky if he speaks but he loves her.

He loves her.

Monster smacks him over the head with the gun unexpectedly and he's falling forward, his hand slipping from Becky's. She's crying now but she keeps her mouth shut. She's not allowed to speak either. She knows the rules. Quinn wants to go to her but she can't. Monster wouldn't allow it. She keeps her eyes on Will. He shakes his head slightly to right his vision and then his eyes find hers and the smile returns to his face even though his eyes are glassy and unfocused again. He's trying to reassure her.

She's allowed to speak. That's not against the rules, "I love you. I love you so much. You're so good. So brave. You're such a good man. I love you. Becky is okay and I'm okay because of you. I'll miss you so, so much. Please..." Her voice cracks when a single tear rolls down his face. _Please_ what? She isn't sure.

Monster is fiddling in his pocket and he finally pulls out a pocket knife, sliding it open and getting on his knees next to Will. Quinn can see the gun handle hanging out of his waistband. He cuts Will's shirt open roughly, exposing his scarred back.

"I wanted to keep you! Why did you have to do this!? You ruined everything! Now people are going to ask about my face and I'm going to have to come up with a story and..." His hands are shaking with rage. He starts over. "I wanted to keep you but now you're just number 12. Trash. You're the twelfth

piece of shit that I've had to do this to! You're garbage! Worthless garbage!"

Will's eyes are still on Quinn's. Becky is sitting near his feet and she reaches out and grabs a hold of his ankle, squeezing to let him know that Monster's words aren't true. That she's still there for him.

He isn't expecting it when Monster drags the knife across his shoulder blade and he screams out. It hurts so badly that he can't help it. He has to close his eyes for a moment against the pain but he wants to see Quinn. Wants to know that he's not alone. Becky's hand is heavy on his ankle. He can hear them both crying. Monster continues to drag the knife across his shoulder, cutting his skin, twisting it. It feels like he's drawing a picture. He can feel the blood dripping down his side. His mind starts to feel light and his vision starts to blur but then he can hear Quinn's voice through the haze and he's brought back.

"You're okay. You're okay. I love you. I love you. I love you." She's chanting it. Her eyes are still on his and he focuses on that. They look impossibly green and bright with the tears that are pooling in them.

"Number 12. You're marked now. No more Dad. You're just trash." He stands and admires his handiwork. The carved number 12 stands out against the pale skin. He looks...proud of himself. Quinn wants to vomit.

"He's not trash!" Becky screams it. Loud and angry.

"Becky, it's okay." Will coughs, his voice cracking. He makes it back to his knees.

"Don't talk to her, trash! You aren't allowed to speak." Monster kicks him hard in the chest and he cries out. He raises his hand and strikes Becky across the cheek.

"He isn't trash! You're already going to kill him! Stop talking to him like that!" She holds her cheek but her eyes are defiant. She's not going to back down. Monster smacks her again and her head snaps to the side. She lets out a little gasp of pain but then she's staring angrily at him again.

"Becky, stop!" Quinn cries. Will is still staring at her but the smile is gone from his face. She can't take it. She can't lose him. She can't hold back the sob that rips from her gut. Her resolve is crumbling.

"You all need to learn your place." He stoops down so he can whisper in Will's ear, "Now that you're gone, I'm going to need a new play thing. Which one should I take upstairs first? The bitch of a mother or the little future slut Kathy?"

Quinn hears it. Wants to scream.

Will's eyes flutter closed and then open again a beat later. If he's going to die, he's at least going to inflict damage before he goes. Maybe someone will question why Monster is covered in cuts and bruises. Maybe the cops will investigate. Maybe they will find Quinn and Becky before he can _touch_ them like he _touched_ him. Before he can kill them.

He grits his teeth and then snaps his head back, head-butting Monster in the teeth. Monster screams out, blooding dripping from his mouth, and then lunges forward, the knife in his outstretched hand.

Everything that happens next happens in less than a minute.

Less than a minute to change everything.

"Stop! Don't kill him! You can't kill him! " Quinn screams it. Can't help it.

Monster's hand is hovering in the air, the knife glinting in the fluorescent lights. His other hand is pressed into the back of Will's neck, holding him down.

Will is screaming. Spit and blood shooting from his mouth in anger. One of them is going to die and it needs to be him. He can't let Monster hurt Quinn or Becky. "Do it, you son-of-a-bitch! You worthless piece of shit! You no good waste of a person! Do it!"

"Don't! You can't! I take it back! I don't choose him!"

Pressed down into the ground, he feels rather than sees Monster lunge away. There is a gurgling noise and then everything goes eerily silent. Will's eyes find Quinn's for a moment. Her mouth is open in shock, her green eyes are huge.

But he doesn't feel any pain. He can still think, hear, see. He isn't dead.

_Why isn't he dead?_

The pressure is off his neck. Monster let him go. He turns his head around and then everything else fades away. Monster, Quinn, the furniture, the smell, the concrete, the blood.

He can't breathe.

Becky is laying in a growing pool of blood. Her eyes are opened. Her throat is cut.

She's gone. Just like that and she's gone.

And he feels it. Feels the scream rip through his body. Feels his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"Good choice." Monster. But his voice is quiet and very far away.

Crying. Quinn. But she sounds like she's in water. Or maybe he's in water. He crawls the few feet to Becky. Pulls her body next to his own and hugs her against his chest. Tries to will her back to life in vain.

It was supposed to be him.

It's too much. He feels everything shutting down. It's a shocking feeling but quick – like flicking a light switch. He can't hold his head up any longer and it falls, smacking roughly into the hard ground. He knows it should hurt, but it doesn't. All the pain slips away at once. All the noise is gone. Quinn and Monster and the basement – all gone.

Becky's dead eyes stare at him. It's all he can see.

Quinn watches his head hit the ground. She wants to see his eyes. Wants to tell him she's sorry. This is her fault. He wanted to protect them and she told Monster not to kill him. One of them had to die. She chose Becky. How could she do that? How can she live with herself?

There is a pool of blood growing around Becky and Will's bodies. Monster steps in it and stoops next to Will again, "She's number 12 now. You can keep that mark as a tattoo to remember her. Asshole."

Will doesn't respond at all. Lays there on the ground curled around Becky, chest rising and falling but that is all. Quinn stares through her tears. Watches as Monster sticks his hand in Becky's blood and rubs it across Will's face. He still doesn't move. He puts his hand back in the blood and crawls towards her. She tries to flinch away but he grabs her hair roughly and yanks. Rubs his sticky, greasy hand across her face.

There is blood in her eyes. Becky's blood.

She heaves forward and vomits on him. She doesn't mean to but she can't help it. He laughs long and hard. The blood is hot and dries quickly on her skin, staining it. Monster slaps her hard across the face, spits blood at her, and then stands, kicking her hard in the ribs as he walks by. She wheezes and clutches at her middle at the pain.

He grumbles as he walks back up the stairs, "I have to put in for time off now. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other before I stick the knife through your worthless hearts."

And then he is gone. And Becky is gone. And Will might as well be gone. And she is left alone to think about how she just murdered a nine year old girl.


	38. Chapter 38

Yes, yes, I'm an ass. Sorry for the late update. I had a few weeks off from school so the beach was calling to me on the daily. Unfortunately for me, summer classes are in now in full swing. Fortunately for you that means updates more frequently. I tend to write when I should be doing homework. :o

* … * … * … * … *

"Tell me about what happened on Monday."

Quinn doesn't answer just like she hasn't answered any of the other questions during the past half hour. Instead she stares warily at the therapist sitting across from her – a round, wide-eyed, gray-haired woman who, despite her kind face and sweet voice, Quinn hates. She doesn't want to speak with this woman. She wants to speak with Will or Kurt or Mercedes. Even her mother would be preferable.

A full minute passes before the woman speaks again, "You're going to have to keep coming here instead of school until we work through your issues, Quinn. I don't mind but something tells me that you'd rather be with your friends than with me."

Quinn folds her arms over her chest and cocks an eyebrow. Can't hold her silence at the woman's presumptuous tone. "And just what issues do you think I need to work on?"

The therapist smiles, "Well, you tried to kill yourself, Quinn. Something must be bothering you."

"And what makes you think that I would talk to you about it?" She knows she's being bitchy. She doesn't care. She finds the old lady insufferable.

"Like I said, if you want to get back to your life..."

Quinn cuts her off angrily, "What life? I'd like to get back to my friends, yes, but I don't exactly have a life to get back to. Whether I'm sitting here with you or them or by myself, it doesn't matter."

"And why is that?"

"Haven't you heard all the sordid details?" Her voice is incredulous.

The therapist looks on calmly, "I've heard the stories, yes."

"Then you know what happened. You know why I can't move on. You know why I don't deserve to move on!" The woman is seriously pissing her off.

"Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Why don't I not?" She musters up her best bitch face. The therapist doesn't bite.

"You're going to have to eventually, Quinn. I'm not pushing you but when you're ready..."

"Yes you are! Everyone is pushing me! My mom pushed me back into school! The teachers push me to do work that I don't want to do! My friends push me to act normal, to act like everything is okay! The only person who doesn't push is Will and he's the only person who has any right to!"

"Will? Mr. Schuester?"

"He doesn't like to be called that anymore!"

"Okay," She writes something in her notebook and Quinn wonders what it is. If it's good or bad or insightful or meaningless. The thought makes her head feel light, "Why would he have the right to push you when no one else does?"

"Because I owe him." She mutters quietly.

"Do you actually owe him or do you just feel that way? Do you think he expects anything from you?"

"He doesn't expect anything from me. That's not the type of person he is."

"Maybe the only person who is pushing you Quinn, is you. You're very hard on yourself."

"Because no one else is! I killed a child! Do you know how that feels?!" There are tears on her cheeks now. She can't stop them.

"You didn't kill anyone. It may feel that way but the man who hurt you killed Rebecca."

"Becky. Her name was Becky and he killed her because I told him to. I had a choice between her and Will and I choose her. That's part of the reason that Will is the way he is now. He snapped. Do you know how long he clung to her corpse for? Do you know what I had to do to put an end to it?"

"No. Would you like to tell me?"

Quinn opens her mouth to speak but the clock catches her eye first, "Time's up."

And then she's out the door and walking past her mother and towards the exit.

* … * … * … * … * … *

"Honey, Rachel Berry is here and she made cookies. Isn't that nice?" Quinn's mother knocks lightly on her door. Rachel is behind her holding a plate of bright pink, star-shaped, sugar cookies, a smile on her face.

Quinn isn't sure whether she's annoyed or happy to see her. After the therapist session, she headed straight to her room and stayed there for three hours. This is the first interruption to her solitude...and she's not sure if it's a welcome one. "Hi, Rachel."

Last year it would have been 'Get lost, Man Hands'.

Maybe some changes are good.

"Hello, Quinn. I hope you don't mind me coming over. I baked you some cookies. They're my famous sugar cookies. I've been told they are good at cheering people up."

"Can Rachel come in, honey?" Her mom pipes in and Quinn nods.

Rachel enters. Her mother leaves. Quinn isn't sure how she feels about that trade off. Really, she isn't sure about much these days.

Rachel moves to sit on the bed. Clutches the plate in her hands and stares at her knees. They sit in awkward silence for a long minute before Rachel speaks, "How are you, Quinn? I heard about what happened on Monday and I'm truly sorry about everything you're going through."

"Thank you, Rachel." She doesn't answer the 'how are you' part – she doesn't want to but, she takes pity on Rachel and reaches forward to pluck a cookie off of her plate. She nibbles on it slowly. Watches the crumbs fall to her blanket where they sit innocently next to her cell phone.

"I thought maybe we could watch a movie or something. AMC is playing West Side Story at five and I'm not sure if you've seen it or not but, it truly is a classic. Natalie Wood and..."

"Sure, Rachel." She mostly agrees to shut her up. It's not that she minds company, really – as long as the company is quiet.

Rachel's face lights up, "Fantastic! I truly thought you were going to say no but I'm very glad that you agreed. I think you'll really love the movie!" She stands and places the plate of cookies on Quinn's dresser as she speaks, "And if you like this one maybe next time Finn can join us and we can watch Funny Girl. He's never seen it and..."

"Finn?" Quinn is only half-paying attention but his name catches her interest and suddenly she wonders what Rachel's motives for movie night truly are.

"Yes, well, he's my boyfriend and I know you have been spending time together recently..."

"Um...we haven't really. We've talked and we've exchanged texts and we were going to start having lunch together but since I can't go back to school until..."

Rachel interrupts, "Oh, I thought it was more serious than that some how. He...never mind. The movie is going to start in a couple of minutes, should we go down stairs?"

Quinn stares at her for a long moment but then nods her head. If Rachel wants to use her to try to get Finn back, she doesn't really mind all that much as long as that's what Finn wants too. She wants him to be happy. Besides Will and maybe Puck, he's the only boy who she's ever considered having a relationship with. She'll text him later and ask him about it. Right now a movie doesn't sound at all unpleasant. She stands, grabs her phone, and follows Rachel down stairs where they sit together on the long couch in the den and watch the Jets and the Sharks sing and dance around the screen.

The movie is about half-over when her phone buzzes. Rachel glances at her hopefully for a second before she looks back to the screen. Quinn takes pity on her, "It's not Finn."

Rachel nods and keeps her eyes on the screen.

5:46 pm Message from Will Schuester: Kurt wants to buy me a new wardrobe. I'm not sure how I should feel about this...

She snorts and Rachel looks at her fully then – a sad expression clouding her eyes. Quinn is so happy that Will is joking with her that she turns the phone and allows Rachel to read the screen. Rachel smiles slightly, "Tell him he'll end up wearing sequin bow ties and skinny jeans if he lets that happen."

5:48 pm Message to Will Schuester: Rachel doesn't seem to think you could pull off sequin bow ties and skinny jeans

"And how is he? Mr. Schue, I mean. Is he...is he doing better?" Her voice is very quiet as if the sound might frighten Quinn away. And it's just silly because Quinn is actually feeling elated right now.

She doesn't need a shrink. She just needs Will.

"He's...I'm not sure. He called yesterday and we talked for a second but I've only talked to him twice since..." She trails off. Her phone buzzes again. She wouldn't have finished that sentence anyway.

"I saw him a couple of weeks ago."

"Finn told me."

5:50 pm Message from Will Schuester: Sequin bow tie and a feather boa. Black. I like to keep things tasteful.

"He didn't look too good while we were over there." Rachel whispers and Quinn looks up from her phone for a moment to regard her.

"How so? Finn told me he wasn't talking much but there is a reason for that." She's not going to tell Rachel the reason. She's not going to speak about Monster's games. She's not going to speak about him at all. "He has a hard time remembering things and staying focused. The nurse in the hospital told me that he had a couple of skull fractures and a severe concussion so it's to be expected. He's joking around again though so I think that means he's healing."

"He attacked Finn."

Her voice is so quiet that Quinn struggles for a moment to realize what she has said. "What do you mean? Finn has been over there..."

"The first time we went over. Weeks ago. We used Coach Sylvester's key and he attacked Finn. He didn't know what he was doing. I think it was a fight or flight thing. It was my fault. I shouldn't have suggested using the key. That's why Finn is mad at me."

Quinn's mouth falls open slightly. That makes five times. Will has attacked five different people and that's just the people that she knows about. There could be others. As far as she knows though, Finn was the last.

It's fine. He's fine. It's the past. He's healing.

"I'm not mad at you. It's been a hard few months for everyone." Her voice comes out harsher than she means it to but Rachel doesn't seem to notice. Her shoulders sag in relief and she looks back to the TV.

5:54 pm Message to Will Schuester: If you're going for understated, don't let him talk you into a skirt.

The movie plays on. Rachel is paying apt attention despite the fact that she has probably seen this movie twenty times. Quinn has never seen it but doesn't really care that she can't bring herself to focus on it right now.

5:55 pm Message from Will Schuester: Now I have to change...

She snorts again and Rachel looks at her. She doesn't share this time though. "Can you ask him if Finn is there? If he's up to answering question like that, I mean."

"He's not brain dead, Rachel. He knows who is over his place." She snaps but she starts to type out the question anyway.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant..." Rachel looks away nervously, waiting for a reply.

5:56 pm Message to Will Schuester: Is Finn over there? Rachel wants to know.

The reply comes back almost instantly.

5:56 pm Message from Will Schuester: Yeah. We're playing cards.

Quinn shows Rachel the message and Rachel nods and faces the TV again. A slight frown on her face.

5:57 pm Message to Will Schuester: Kurt and Finn are there? What are you playing?

5:59 pm Message from Will Schuester: And Puck. I've eaten too much MSG lately...Chinese takeout and Rummy. Finn said no more video games.

6:00 pm Message to Will Schuester: West Side Story with Rachel. I think you might be having a better night than me.

6:01 pm Message from Will Schuester: Perhaps not. You didn't have to witness the cutthroat game of Rock Band that went down earlier.

Quinn smiles wide and Rachel turns her head again to regard her. "Do you love him? I get that look on my face whenever Finn talks to me too."

Quinn looks up. She had almost forgotten Rachel was in the room. "Do I love him? Yes. More than anything."

"But...it's Mr. Schue. I admit I had a thing for him at one time but that was just..."

"Will. It's Will and I know who he is." Quinn's eyes go back to her phone. Fingers flexing to type out her reply.

"You're 17. Are you sure it's love and not just some sort of hero worship. Sometimes people who are in dangerous situations together..."

Quinn interrupts. Rolls her eyes, "Rachel, don't psychoanalysis me. We spent every moment together for over two months. I can tell you pretty much everything about him. What he likes, what he hates. I can tell you his damn shoe size if you wanted me too. I know what this is and it's love. This is it for me. Even if he doesn't feel the same way, I'll wait until he does."

"And what if he never does...what if he never feel the same way?" Rachel asks quietly and Quinn isn't sure whether or not she's referring to her situation with Will or her own situation with Finn.

"Then I'll wait forever."

Rachel nods but Quinn doubts she agrees.

6:05 pm Message to Will Schuester: I'll call you when Rachel leaves

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Who knew video games and cards could lead to such an embittered rivalry?

Will opens his door at 3:30. Puck and Finn haul Finn's X-box and the plastic instruments that belong to _Rock Band _into the apartment and begin hooking the system up to the living room TV. Kurt follows a minute after, rolls his eyes at Finn and Puck's bickering, and heads into the kitchen.

Will can't decide whether to follow Kurt into the kitchen or sit in the living room to listen to the arguing.

He takes a shower instead.

When he emerges and enters the living room, the game is set up and three sets of eyes are staring expectantly at him. He takes the bass guitar that Puck hands to him mostly because he wants to cease being the center of attention. It works. The eyes turn towards the TV screen.

Kurt relents and plays vocals. Puck plays guitar. Finn plays drums.

Puck destroys them all the first round...and then the second...and then the third...and then the forth...fifth...sixth...seventh.

Kurt keeps staring at Will out of the corner of his eye – a half-smirk plastered to his face the entire time. Will doesn't know what that smirk means so he tries to avoid looking at it – keeps his eyes and mind focused on the game. He manages second place throughout most of the game. Kurt's full on smiling by the forth round.

Half-way through the seventh round, Finn throws down the drumsticks and refuses to play anymore. This starts another volley of insult trades between he and Puck. Will and Kurt watch the verbal sparring match silently until Kurt can't take it anymore and suggests that they order food and play cards.

Will agrees even though his stomach protests the idea of more take-out. Too much sodium, too much grease. He wants to suggest sandwiches and cookies but Kurt is already ordering Chinese by the time he works up the nerve to speak and so he remains silent.

He drinks a bottle of water to try to prepare his stomach for the impending onslaught of MSG. It doesn't work but when the food is delivered, he takes the plate of General Tso's chicken and white rice from Finn anyway. He doesn't want to hurt their feelings. He doesn't eat much of it though which causes both Finn and Kurt to eye him warily.

He doesn't want to puke on the cards though. Sue will probably make him a sandwich later anyway.

Kurt deals out the cards for Rummy as they eat. Will listens as the others talk – sports, cars, more sports, girls, boys. They stay away from sensitive topics and Will is grateful – nothing about the news or school or substitute Spanish teachers. Some how Kurt starts a discussion about men's fashion that doesn't seem to end despite the reluctance of the other three to join in. Puck and Finn couldn't care less about loafers and Ralph Lauren and Will is having a hard time focusing. The air in the apartment is too thick. The video game took too long. He needs a nap.

He settles on opening the windows to let the crisp air from outside circulate through the room.

The others watch him as he sits back down and picks up his cards. Kurt clears his throat and makes his move, "Look, I'm not saying we should change the school colors permanently but maybe for home games we could try something a little different."

"Dude, I'm not throwing a football while wearing canary yellow pants." Puck throws his own card into the pile a little roughly.

"Not canary. Maybe a nice pastel. Or Goldenrod."

"I'm...not sure what that is." Finn frowns. Shovels more chicken into his mouth and picks up the pile of cards.

"It's yellow." Kurt rolls his eyes, "Neither of you have any class. Are those clothes from Target? You know there is a Banana Republic at the mall, right?"

"Dude, all I can afford is Target. I can pick up a shirt, underwear, and dip all in the same trip. Don't fuck with Target."

Will fidgets uncomfortably. The last time he was at Target, he was being pistol-whipped and shoved into the back seat of his own car with Quinn.

_Quinn._

He makes his move. Eyeballs his phone.

"Whatever." Kurt mutters. "Will, you're clothes are a bit big on you. Maybe I could help you update your closet? I have gift cards!"

He smiles and Will clears his throat, "Uh...I like my clothes. But sure, Kurt, if you'd like. Sometime maybe."

Puck and Finn start barking at each other about cheating again. Will isn't sure how to cheat at Rummy but his mind is too fuzzy to pay attention to their words. His head hurts. His stomach hurts. He needs something else to focus on.

_Quinn._

He sends her a text. Keeps the topic light. They exchange texts back and forth for a while and his conversation with her helps. He makes it through the rest of the game and actually manages to win in the end.

Finn suggests a rematch and he can't suppress the smile when Kurt and Puck let out matching groans.

"What? It's still early. I don't have to be home until nine." Finn drums his fingers on the table

"No more cards, Dude. This shit ain't cool." Puck grumbles as he straightens out the deck.

"We could watch TV." Finn suggests hopefully. He just wants to stay a little while longer.

"No." Will answers reflexively before he can catch himself. Three sets of eyes look at him and he clears his throat to continue, "No TV, please."

"We could go for a walk or something," Puck suggests, "That shit ain't cool either but at least we could get some fresh air. It still smells like a swimming pool in here."

"It's bleach, Noah, and that's actually not a bad idea." Kurt agrees mostly because he wants to see how Will handles being outside the confines of his apartment. He did well with the video game and okay with the cards. It will be nice to tell Quinn something positive.

"Um. Guys, maybe that's not the best..."

Will interrupts Finn. He doesn't want to hear anymore arguing, "A walk is fine. Around the block a couple of times and then all of you should probably be getting home." It's dark and cold. No one will be outside and he could use the fresh air. He really wants to breathe the fresh air.

They stand and straighten up the apartment slightly. Pull on jackets and shoes and scarves and hats. Will walks close to Finn's side. Kurt leads. Puck takes the rear. They make it out of the building and start a slow pace up the street.

They walk in silence for which Will is grateful. His head is still pounding. His stomach is still rolling.

He kind of enjoyed walking around town the night of the vigil and he's enjoying the walk right now as well. He misses the smell of clean air – the chill of the wind on his skin. It's pleasant after being locked up for months – first in the basement, then the hospital, and then his apartment. Finn's massive frame to his left, Puck to his right, and Kurt's air of confidence in the lead help him feel protected and at ease.

He's fine. Nothing can hurt him. He can't hurt anyone. Everything is fine.

It's only a twenty minute walk but by the time they re-enter his building, he's exhausted and wants to shower and sleep. Quinn is supposed to call and Sue normally stops over. He appreciates their company but, he hopes his current companions aren't planning on staying much longer.

Fortunately, Sue helps him out once again. She's standing by his front door when they get back. A mix of emotions play across her face when she spots them – worry, anger, hope, pride, before it settles back into its blank mask, "Where have you been?"

"Uh – we just...we went for a walk, Coach Sylvester." Finn answers after none of the others do because that's sort of his place as a leader – no matter how much he doesn't want the job.

Sue nods. Hides her smile as four sets of eyes stare guiltily at her as if they've done something wrong when in fact, they've done something very right. She's pondered for weeks how to get Schuester out of the house. Ever since the disastrous trip to the grocery store, she didn't think she'd be able to pull it off again but all it took was three students suggesting a walk, and out he goes. She should tell them that she's proud of them. Instead she says, "You three should be getting home."

And they do. They take turns saying good-bye to Will and then they're down the stairs and heading towards the parking garage.

"How are you feeling, William?"

"I..." he fidgets nervously and then walks towards her - towards his door. "Can we go back inside?"

"Sure, buddy." She steps aside and he unlocks the door and lets them both in. "How are you feeling though? You look a little...green."

"It's...I'm okay." He doesn't tell her about the Chinese takeout even though she can probably smell it. He'll need to bleach the counters or something. He doesn't tell her about his headache either. He doesn't want to see the look of worry. She actually looks...happy right now.

"You should watch what you eat." She eyes the food containers with slight disgust, catching on quickly to the source of Will's queasy expression, "Your stomach isn't used to this type of food."

"The kids wanted to order out." He says simply, sitting on the couch and pulling off his shoes.

"Did you want to eat take out?"

"No." He pulls his sweatshirt off and throws it over the back of the couch. Sits back and rests his head.

Sue taps him on the top of the head and glares halfhearted down at his face, "Then next time open your mouth and say so." They lock eyes and she can't help but to smile slightly at him, "I'm glad you're letting them in though. And I'm...proud that you left the house today. You're making steps, William. Your mouth is even looking better."

He looks up at her. Returns the slight smile. Some how her words make him feel warm inside. He imagines it's how he would have felt as a child if his mother had ever told him that she were proud of him. "Thank you, Sue. For...for everything."

She squeezes his shoulder and then moves away. She's not good with emotion. She heads into the kitchen, comes back a few minutes later with a bowl of Cheerios and a cup of orange juice which Will accepts gratefully.

He eats and they watch a re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond.

"Feeling better?" She asks after his cereal is gone and the show is over. He regards her with tired green eyes and nods. "Good. Why don't you shower and head to bed? I'm sure your Glee kids will be over for another visit tomorrow so you should get some rest."

"I think I sleep too much. I'm always tired." His voice is very quiet as he stands and stretches. Wincing slightly at the pain in his head.

"Your body needs sleep to heal, William. You're fine." She stands as well, "I'm going to get going but I'll be by tomorrow night."

He nods. Considers simply heading to the bathroom to take his shower but her words from earlier are still playing through his mind – she's proud of him. Some one is proud of him. He steps forward and wraps his arms around her shoulders. Rests his head in the crook of her neck. There is a slight hesitation on her part but she hugs him back tightly. "Good-bye, Sue."

"Okay." And then she moves away and pulls on her coat and is out the door. And maybe he imagines it but he thinks there might be a tear-streak down her cheek as she leaves.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Rachel wouldn't leave. Even after the movie ended, she insisted on staying for dinner and her mother gladly dished out three plates of spaghetti instead of two. Quinn thinks her mom is glad for the company – someone to talk to who actually talks back.

That's fine.

But when the clock hits 8 and Rachel is still sitting at the Fabray's dinner table, Quinn excuses herself and heads upstairs. It's probably impolite but Quinn just can't bring herself to care, especially when she just wants to call Will. Just wants to hear his voice.

She sits on her bed and hits call over his name on her contact list. It rings several times and she's expecting it to go to voice mail but then there is a click and his quiet voice is in her ear, "Quinn."

She can't contain her smile at the sound of him on the other line. She lays on her side and hugs her pillow tightly to her chest. "Hey, were you sleeping? I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. Rachel won't go home."

"Yeah but it's okay. The guys and Sue didn't leave that long ago."

"Really? I'm kind of surprised Coach is being so nice especially after last year." He makes a little humming noise and she takes it to mean that he agrees. "How was the video game?"

"Finn doesn't like to lose." He answers. Yawns. "Especially to Puck. I thought they were going to fist fight at one point."

"Yeah, they've always been like that. They always have to one up the other. Did you end up with the sequined bow tie?"

"It's in the mail. One in every color so I don't need to worry about clashing."

"Excellent idea. Kurt is always thinking ahead." She laughs lightly. Tries to picture Will on the pillow next to her. "How is your head?"

"It's...getting better, I think." There is a long pause and then he clears his throat, "How was the therapist appointment?"

"It...she's a bitch. My mom is still making me go though so it's...whatever. I'll deal with it."

"I hope it helps."

"Talking to you helps." She answers assuredly.

"Quinn." Another pause, "I'm sorry I'm...it's hard to..."

"Talk. I know. I'm glad you're trying. I missed your voice so much. I miss _you_ so much." He doesn't answer for a very long time and Quinn thinks maybe he has fallen asleep. "Will?"

"um. The guys are coming...they come over...in the afternoon. And Sue, she...I see her in the evening. If you wanted to...If your mom said it was okay..."

His voice is so low that even with her ear pressed up to the phone, it's hard to make sense of his words. "Will?"

"If she said it was okay, maybe, if you wanted to...you could come over too. Sometime." Pause, "To talk, I mean. Or I have puzzles. Puzzles with puppies on them. Because...you like puppies."

She laughs at that. She is so happy with the offer that she can't contain the giant smile as it spreads across her face. She can picture his nervous face as he speaks and a happy tear slips from her eye. "Of course! I'll ask her but I'm sure she'll say I have to go to a few more therapy sessions first. Wait for me?"

"Always." Another long silence, punctuated by Quinn's tears this time. "Only talking though, Quinn. We can't...the things that happened before..."

"I know. I know. It's okay. I promise. I just want to see you."

"Okay. I'm sorry – I'm really tired, Quinn. It's getting hard to stay awake."

"Go to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know what my mom says. I love you, Will."

"Don't." Silence again and she thinks he's gone but then his voice comes over the line one more time, "Good-night, Quinn."

She'll gladly do the therapy sessions if it means that she gets to see Will.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Rachel leaves Quinn's house and heads home about a half-hour after Quinn disappears up to her room with a unenthusiastic good-night.

She is pretty sure her attempt at reaching out to Quinn is mostly a bust. She'll keep trying but she needs to set her sights higher. If Finn is going to focus the majority of his attention on Mr. Schuester, then so is she.

She just needs to come up with a plan first.


	39. Chapter 39

Short chapter but it's up quick. Does that count for something?

* … * … * … * … * … *

**October 6th**

Michael Hitchins.

Such a simple, ordinary, mundane name. Michael Hitchins could be your teacher. Michael Hitchins could be the catcher for the high school baseball team. Michael Hitchins could be the manager of the local grocery store.

He could be...but he's not.

Michael Hitchins is a rapist. He is a murderer. He is a serial killer.

Michael Hitchins is a monster.

Quinn preferred knowing nothing about him. He had been a soulless, nameless, creature to haunt her nightmares and now he's a person. A person with a name and an address and a family and coworkers and a past. He had two kids and an ex-wife. He had a mother, father, brother, and sister. He had never been in prison. He had never even had a traffic ticket.

He had all of those things while he was alive.

That son-of-a-bitch is dead now.

Quinn is so distracted by the revelation of Monster's name that she misses half of the words that have just spewed from the detective's mouth. He's staring at her expectantly but she has no idea what she should say so she drops her face. She's tired. Her face hurts terribly. Her head hurts. It's hard to concentrate. She doesn't like the detective's dark eyes – his stare – it makes her skin crawl. Reminds her of Monster.

Reminds her of Michael Hitchins.

"Look, I understand that you've been through a lot and that you're tired and only seventeen but if you don't answer my questions now, you're going to have to come down to the station later and answer them. Wouldn't you rather just go home? Try to forget about all of this?"

_Forget about it?_ How can she forget about it?

He's still speaking, "I want to get this case behind us and we're never going to if we don't find out what went on in that basement. We need to know what he did to you. We need to know if he told you anything about the other victims. Are you going to cooperate?" The detective asks irritably. Quinn stares at him. He's a dick and she wants him gone. "You said Rebecca died about ten days before you were found? How did she die?"

Quinn stares through the window at her mother. She's talking to Coach Sylvester. Quinn wishes that her coach would rush in the room and scare away the detective. She could do it. She's intimidating like that. She clears her throat, her eyes focused on Sue, and speaks slowly, "He...she...he cut her. Her throat. She...that's it."

"Hitchins or Schuester?"

"What?"

"Hitchins cut her or Schuester cut her?" The detective asks impatiently, tapping his notepad against his knee.

"Why would you ask that?" She hisses. Her throat is still raw from screaming and it hurts terribly but this shitface has crossed the line.

"Because his hair and clothes are matted in blood – a great deal of which belongs to Rebecca." He stares at her.

She stares back. "It's Becky, not Rebecca. He was laying next to her when that Monster...it was supposed to be him. Will was supposed to die that day."

"Was he? Then how come he is here and she's in the ground?" He sits forward, elbows on knees and glares at her.

He clearly blames her for Becky's death. She came home and Becky didn't. She's alive and Becky isn't. Everyone must feel the same way. He hates her just like they all hate her. This asshole is just the only one who is honest enough to say so. "Fuck off."

"Uh-huh." He sighs and sits up.

"I'm not talking to you anymore. Get out!" She doesn't want to deal with him. With any of them. She wants to be alone. If they hate her so badly, they can all just stay away.

"You know what? Schuester also had his own blood on his clothes. And Hitchin's blood. And your blood. Do you want to tell me why Schuester was covered in your blood? How you got all those bruises?"

"He didn't do anything to me! He would never hurt me! Mom! Mom! Make him leave!" She screams. Tries to struggle out of bed. The nurses are in the room a beat later followed by her mother and Coach Sylvester. Coach grabs the detective out of the chair and shoves him out of the room. She's screaming something at him but Quinn can't focus on what is coming out of her mouth. It doesn't matter. She knew she could count on her coach to be intimidating enough to get rid of that asshole.

There is a man at the door with a camera. He lifts it up and points it towards Quinn but Coach Sue rips it away from him and shoves him to the ground. There is noise every where. The nurses shouting for security. The cameraman shouting about his stolen equipment. The detective shouting about Will and psychotic breakdowns and justifiable homicide. Quinn is pulled forward and wrapped up in her mother's arms – buries her face in her mother's cardigan and blocks everything else out. She begins to count backwards from 100.

_77...76...75...74..._

Security arrives and escorts the cameraman out of the area.

_45...44...43...42..._

A woman's voice that Quinn doesn't recognize shouts for Detective Samuels to 'stand down'.

Quinn can hear the clicking of two sets of heals on the linoleum and then the shitface detective's voice is gone too.

20...19...18...17...

The nurse's voices dissipate until there is only one asking if she is okay.

She's not okay.

They were all staring at her. She could feel their eyes. They wanted to hurt her. They want to hurt her.

Maybe they want to hurt Will too.

5...4...3...2...

"I want to see Will." She whispers into her mother's sweater. Arms tighten around her.

"Oh, honey. You can't. Not right now." The nurse with the horn-rimmed glasses answers.

"I need to see him." She hopes her voice sounds as desperate to them as it is does herself.

"Sweetheart, he has a terrible head injury. Two skull fractures and it looks like he's had a few severe concussions over the past months. He's not thinking straight. You don't want to see him like that."

"Yes I do!" She knows the woman is trying to help but she doesn't need to be told what to do by her or anyone else.

"It's dangerous."

"Honey, you should listen to the nurse."

"No! I want to see him! He's not dangerous!"

"He's attacked people, sweetie. He broke his ex-wife's wrist and headbutted a doctor. He's restrained. You can't see him right now. Let us get him fixed up and then maybe when you're stronger, you can visit him."

"No, I don't want to..."

"Quinn," Coach Sue's voice cuts in. It's hard but quiet and there is something else there too – Nervousness? Fear? Quinn isn't sure but her tone makes Quinn go silent, "I'll check on him for you, alright? I'll tell him that you're okay and that you'll visit as soon as you can."

Quinn looks up at her and their eyes lock for a moment before she nods. Coach Sue may be a difficult person in general but Quinn knows that she is fiercely loyal. Despite the fact that Quinn let her down last year with the pregnancy and the lies, Coach must still have at least some positive feelings for her if she's voluntarily going to visit Will.

Quinn trusts her and so she agrees.

Coach nods once, "I'll come back and let you know how he is before I leave."

And then she's gone and Quinn is reburying her face in her mother's warmth. Her tired, battered body is asleep within minutes.

* … * … * … * … * … *

John Schuester is a weak man. There is plenty of proof to attest to this fact. The latest proof is laying tied down to a hospital bed down the hallway. His son - his son who everyone thought was dead. The doctors explained his condition – the skull fractures, signs of multiple concussions, probable brain damage. Cracked ribs, collapsed lung, multiple deep lacerations, welts, a fractured orbital bone. He could deal with all that – he could help his son overcome his physical injuries.

What he can't deal with is...the _other_ thing.

Will can't make his own medical decisions. He isn't speaking and according to the doctors, he is mentally unstable. They had tied his arms and legs to the bed after he had broken Terri's wrist and attacked a doctor. John has not been in the room to see him. He can't see him like that. He had been sitting in the waiting room for hours when the doctor had come out and asked his permission to run a series of blood tests - including an HIV test.

That creature had raped his son.

He weakly nodded his consent and then sat numb for hours, even after the results came back negative, unable to bring himself to leave the hospital. Unable to enter his son's room.

He had never been a good father. He tried but his wife and her drinking problem created such a hostile environment, he mostly stayed away from the house – choosing instead to work long hours or wallow by himself in the bar down the road. Looking back on it now, it was selfish, incredibly selfish to allow his son to grow up like that. He noticed the bruises on his boy. The black eyes, the hand prints on his skin. He noticed Will's insatiable appetite whenever John brought home takeout and how he didn't seem to gain weight until he started eating almost every dinner at one of his friend's houses in middle school. He knew his wife was neglectful but Will had never said anything about it – never complained, and so he had not done anything about it.

He should have been stronger. He should have taken his boy and left but he loved his wife and he was weak.

He still loves his wife. He's still weak.

He wonders briefly where she is at the moment – which bar she has crawled into to drink her troubles away. He knows that she got the message about Will. The answering machine had already been played when he had returned home from his class. He had rushed to the hospital right away expecting to find his wife already waiting for him.

He was wrong.

"How is he?" The voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at its owner. The tall blonde-haired cheer leading coach from McKinley. Will had pointed her out at one of the Acafella shows. He said that she was a spiteful woman with a chip on her shoulder. Will never said anything negative about anyone so John knew that was his way of saying that the woman was a giant bitch.

"He's...what are you doing here?" His voice is scratchy from lack of use.

"I was visiting Quinn Fabray. The police just got through with speaking with her for the moment. I thought I would make a pit stop before I left. I'm a co-worker of..."

"I know who you are." He interrupts bitterly, hoping that she'll understand by the tone of his voice that he wants her to leave. He wants to be alone.

She either doesn't understand or doesn't care because she sits down heavily in the seat across from him.

"Have you been in to see him yet?"

"No."

"Quinn is doing well considering. Her face was badly beaten and she has a serious concussion, a few cracked ribs, and she's malnourished but it could have been a lot worse. Her mother told me that Quinn said that your son saved her life."

His eyes snap up at that. His boy had saved that girl? He isn't surprised really. His heart swells with pride for a moment until the crushing weight of the situation returns to the forefront of his mind.

"I can't go in that room. I can't see him like that."

The woman – Sue, nods and is quiet for a long while before speaking again, "Would you like me to go for you?"

"The doctor said only immediate family is allowed in. He's apparently a security risk." He mutters. He would like someone to be there for his son because he can't. He isn't sure that he wants it to be this woman though.

"Has his mother been here?" He shakes his head and she continues, "Then tell the doctor that I am your wife. He shouldn't be in there by himself."

He nods and they sit silently until the doctor comes back out an hour or so later with an update. The lie slips easily off his tongue and even though the doctor clearly doesn't believe them, he allows Sue to follow him down the hallway to check on his son.

This woman does what he is unable to and his guilt threatens to swallow him whole.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Sue's initial thought upon entering the room is that Schuester needs a bath. His hair is longer and matted terribly with a rusty colored substance that must be dried blood. His face is a bit thinner. His eyes are black and blue. There is a tube feeding oxygen up his nose and he's tied to the bed. But from what she can see, Schuester doesn't look too bad – it could be worse. She considers asking the doctor about his condition but it doesn't seem right some how. He saved Quinn. She will not invade his privacy.

She slowly approaches the bed and perches herself next to his shackled right arm. Her eyes trace the IV in his arm up until they reach his face. "William, can you hear me?"

To her surprise, his eyes slowly open and regard her blankly.

"Hey, buddy. You might not believe it but I'm actually glad to see you and your baby butt chin. How are you feeling?

He swallows hard and looks away from her.

"You know, McKinley has been pretty boring without you. I have no one there to amuse me. You wouldn't believe some of the new teachers Figgins has hired. The football coach is the burliest woman I've ever seen. It's like looking at John Goodman in lipstick."

He inhales sharply and closes his eyes tightly. He's tense and Sue thinks, judging by his body language, that she should probably stop speaking and leave the room but she's never been one to do what she should.

"Your hair is a little frazzled. I might be able to talk them into trucking in some..." She thinks a joke will remind him of the past – of happier times, but when his lips start moving and the low, gravely chant like sound reaches her ears, she silences herself. She turns her head and lowers her ear towards his mouth.

"You're not real. He's coming back. You're not real. He's coming back. You're not real. He's coming back."

No emotion. No inflection in his gravely voice. She's suddenly, shockingly, concerned for her nemesis. "Hey, buddy..."

And then she's concerned for herself because he springs forward as far as he can with the ties on his wrists, ankles, and pelvis and snarls at her. Strains to escape the bonds and literally _snarls._ She jumps back out of reach and he struggles harder – the heart monitor beeps fiercely and she can hear footsteps in the hallway. He screams in her face, "You're not real! You're not real! Send another one, bitch!"

And then he's being pushed back against the bed by four rather large male nurses and he shouts one more time and his voice is so desperate that it's scary, "I'm sorry! I won't speak! Don't hurt her again! Don't...please."

And then he bites down hard on his bottom lip and there is blood dripping down his chin and she wants to help but she's being pushed out of the room by a short, round nurse.

Apparently Schuester is more damaged than he looks. She stares through the window at him. They've drugged him and he's calm now – his eyelids heavy and blinking open and closed slowly. She's never known him to raise his voice, even when angry. The angriest she's ever seen him was after she tried to have the choir room turned in her trophy annex and he smashed her trophy against the door. He hadn't raised his voice at all though so it's truly startling to hear now.

She isn't sure she wants to deal with this. She isn't sure but Quinn reminds her so much of herself that she can't help feeling protective towards the girl. She's always been protective of her. That's why she promoted her to head cheerleader and it's why she took it away when she found out she was expecting a baby – she didn't want to see her physically hurt. She'll deal with Schuester because Quinn needs her to. She'll wait a few weeks, allow him some time to heal, and then she'll try to help him in whatever way that she can. She'll do it for Quinn.

She returns to the girl's room and speaks with her mother for a moment because Quinn is sleeping. She lies and says that Schuester wasn't up for visitors but that she left the message with the nurse. This poor woman doesn't need to hear that her daughter's savior has more than a few screws loose at the moment.

She heads to her car to return home. She needs a protein shake and a nap. She has a feeling that the next few months are going to prove to be very difficult.


	40. Chapter 40

Oh. This chapter is totally not rated R. Next chapter shall be back in the basement...so prepare for terrible things to happen.

Thank you for all your kind reviews and messages. I love you all!

* … * … * … * … * … *

"Do you know what time it is, Finn Christopher Hudson? I've been sitting here for three hours waiting for you! Where have you been?!"

Finn stops walking as soon as he closes the door and hears his mother's angry voice. He stares at her wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not a T-Rex, Finn! I can still see you if you don't move!" Carole Hudson is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hands on hips, tapping her foot expectantly. She looks pissed.

He runs through his mental checklist...homework done...it's only seven, not passed curfew...she doesn't care anymore if his room is clean...what did he do?

"um...sorry?" He tries and hopes that she doesn't question him any further. He could throw out some guesses as to what he has done wrong but he learned the hard way when he was seven that it's better to just let his mom reveal what she's angry about instead of copping to other things he's done. He doesn't want to wind up in more trouble than he's in already.

"Do you even know what you've done?!"

_Crap. _

She's on to him.

"Uh...did I forget to...um...actually, I have no idea why you're yelling at me."

"We were supposed to have dinner with your grandmother, Finn! I told you this morning to be home after school! Where were you?"

"um...with Puck? Yeah. I was with Puck and we were...um...we were playing video games." It's not quite a lie. Puck was there. He just leaves out the part about being at Will's. He's been going there every day with Puck and Kurt for the past seven days. He still hasn't told his mother about any of it. He has a feeling he's going to have to right now though. "Sorry, Mom. I just forgot."

"Finn, I don't know what's going on with you. You've been coming home late and getting up early to do homework. Rachel calls and tells me that you're avoiding her and today I got notes from your English and Science teachers telling me that you're doing spectacularly well and telling me to have you keep doing whatever it is that you're doing." She takes a deep breath, continues tapping her foot, "Except I have no idea what it is that you're doing! And now I feel like the bad guy for getting angry with you for doing well in school!"

He darts his eyes around the room but there isn't an escape for him and he knows it. He shoves his hands into his pockets, "Um. I got a tutor."

"A tutor?! Finn, why didn't you tell me!? I'm happy that you're taking your school work more seriously but we can't really afford a tutor right now."

"um. I'm not really paying him. He's just sort of helping me with my homework and stuff. I'm trying to catch up on all the work I've missed this year and he's...um...he's helping me. It's really awesome and um – yeah, I'm catching up quickly." He tries to appease her by adding a reassuring smile at the end but his mom clearly wants no part of it.

"Finn..." His mom's voice sounds a little alarmed and she pauses before she continues, "This, uh, this 'he' who is helping you with your work is a special uh – 'he'?

"Huh?" He guesses that Will is special but that doesn't seem like the answer that she wants.

"I, um, I will love you just as much, Sweetheart, no matter who you fall in love with, alright?"

Finn can't think of a time when he has been more embarrassed except for maybe some unfortunate incidents involving Rachel or Quinn and failed thoughts of the mailman. His face is burning red, "Mom! It's not...I'm not gay! It's not my boyfriend! Will is helping me and Puck with our work and then we eat and play video games and stuff. It's not...Mom!"

"Oh...oh! um...I just thought because you were sneaking around and avoiding Rachel..." She pauses and takes another deep breath. Tries to change the subject, "Who is Will? Is he on the football team?"

"um. No. He's not in school right now." He wonders how this is going to end. Sometimes his mom is really cool and sometimes she is a raging hyena. It pretty much depends on the day he thinks.

"Is he one of Puck's college friends?" Her voice is getting suspicious.

"No. He uh – he, well, you've met." He pulls a hand out of his pocket and scratches at the back of his neck, "I've kind of been getting help from Mr. Schue."

"Schue? As in William Schuester?" Finn nods and Carole takes a menacing step forward, "Finn! Do you know how dangerous that could be!?"

Raging hyena it is.

"Mom, calm down! He's not dangerous! I've already been over his apartment like ten times and nothing bad has ever happened!" It's a lie but she doesn't need to know about the first time he went over there with Rachel. It shouldn't count anyway. That was before Will started really healing. "We just hang out and stuff. He helps us with our homework and then we play video games or cards and we've gone for a walk a couple of times. Coach Sylvester is usually there too. Mom, it's cool."

"It's not cool, Finn! What if he got angry and attacked you? What would you do!? It's not like he doesn't have a history of violent behavior!" The vein in her forehead is throbbing. Finn stares at it. It's not a good sign.

"He's never gotten angry mom! He hardly even talks and none of us are rude to him or anything! Why can't you understand that I need to help him?! He helped me last year when I really needed a dad and...and...well, I know he's not my dad. He's_ not_ my dad. But he helped me so much with dealing with Quinn and the baby and Glee and football and all of that stuff. It's like he was a really cool older brother or something and now he needs me and I'm not just going to abandon him! Even now he's helping me get caught up with my work and stuff! Please don't ask me to just..."

"Finn, calm down." She's in front of him now, pulls him into a hug briefly and then pushes him back slightly so she can look up into his eyes. "I won't make a decision right away but if you want to spend time with...Will, then I'm going to sit down and talk to him first. I'm not going to have you going over there if he's unstable and the only way I can make sure that he's not is if I talk to him myself." She spins him around by his shoulders and towards the door, "So since we already missed Grandma's dinner...march to the car."

Finn does as he's told even though he thinks visiting Will with his angry mother may be a colossally bad idea.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Carole calls Burt on the way to Will's apartment to ask him if he knows what his son has been up to.

He doesn't.

This leads Kurt to be on the receiving end of a very stern talking to after which Burt insists that Carole not visit Will on her own just in case any unpleasantness arises. He and Kurt meet Finn and Carole on the sidewalk outside the apartment building about half an hour later.

"Was all of this your idea, Finn?" Burt offers as way of a greeting as they walk into the building. He doesn't wait for an answer. "I suppose it was. I don't think I need to tell you how stupid all of this was. I'm sure your mother already had that discussion with you."

Finn wants to answer back but he bites the inside of his cheek and keeps quiet at the pained look on Kurt's face. It's better to just get this over with as peacefully as possible.

Carole knocks when they reach the door. There is no answer for a couple of minutes but after a second round of knocking, the door swings open. A put-out looking Sue Sylvester is standing in front of them, arms crossed over her chest.

"Hudson. Porcelain. Did you two forget something?"

"Not exactly." Finn mumbles.

"Sylvester, you knew our kids have been coming over here every day. Don't you have some duty as an educator to keep children safe?"

Sue turns her icy blue eyes to Burt. Her voice is very quiet but stern, "First, I knew they were over here, yes. I don't think it's dangerous so I have no duty to report anything of the sort. Second, they are _your_ children, why didn't _you_ know where they were?"

Burt opens his mouth to speak but Carole raises her hand up and he shuts it again, "Coach Sylvester, I'm not interested in an argument. We simply stopped over to assess the situation and make sure our children are safe. Finn wants to continue coming here and I need to..."

"Will, I'm sorry." Finn's sad voice cuts her off when he sees Will appear down the hallway behind Sue. His pajamas are slightly sleep rumpled and Finn can tell that, despite the relatively early hour, he was in bed before they disturbed him. He lifts his hand and gives a nervous slight wave at the group of people in the doorway staring at him.

"Mr. Schuester..."

"It's Will." Finn and Kurt echo each other. They both look down when Carole eyes them.

"Will then, can we speak with you for a minute?"

His eyes dart from Sue to the group and back to Sue. Finn can tell that he wants to say 'no'. He doesn't want so many people invading his privacy, staring at him, asking him questions. He doesn't deny them though – simply shrugs and walks slowly into the living room.

Burt moves to take a step forward but Sue's raised hand stops him. "You want to talk to him? Fine. There are some rules. You will not ask him about anything that happened in that cabin. You will not ask him about the man that is responsible for all of this. You will not ask him about any of his injuries. If he wants to leave the room, you will let him go without comment. You will not raise your voices. Do you understand?"

"What are you? His mother?" Burt asks irritably. Sue merely raises an eyebrow in response. She doesn't step aside until Burt nods and mumbles, "Okay."

Finn is able to rush past his mom and Burt and sits next to Will on the couch before the others are in the room. "I really am sorry," he whispers. Will nods and smiles very slightly at him. It doesn't make Finn feel any better.

Carole and Burt sit on the chairs opposite the couch. Kurt sits on Will's other side. Sue stands behind the couch, her hands on Will's shoulders. He glances up at her and then turns his attention to the adults sitting across from him.

Silence stretches until Kurt breaks it, "I'm not implying that sitting here staring at each other is not immensely entertaining but if that's all we're going to do, maybe we should let Will get back to sleep."

"Watch it, Kurt. You're still in trouble here." Burt answers and Kurt not-so-discreetly rolls his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Will?" Carole asks quietly. She can't help the motherly feeling that spreads throughout her chest at the site of the man in front of her. He looks broken – so unlike the man who was her son's favorite teacher last year, yet exactly like him. His eyes are the same but look very large on his thin face. His mouth is the same but bruised and slightly swollen. He's fidgeting nervously. When she met him for the first time last year at parent/teacher night, he was so animated, so talkative, so confident...that person is not here anymore. This is a young man in need of a lot of love and understanding.

He certainly doesn't look dangerous in his striped pajama bottoms and white socks.

"Okay." He answers quietly.

"Look, Schuester, we don't want to take up too much of your time here. My son has been lying to me for the past week and I want to know why."

"um..." Will folds his hands in his lap and tries to keep eye contact with the man sitting across from him. He fails and has to drop his eyes to the ground.

"Dad, I told you that he told us to ask your permission to come here. I didn't think you'd like the idea though so I didn't tell you. It has nothing to do with him." Kurt cuts Will off irritably.

"Yeah, mom, it's not Will's fault. I just didn't want you to say that I couldn't come here, so I didn't tell you." Finn adds nervously.

Carole glares at both boys but then turns her attention back to the man sitting between them, "Will, Finn wants to continue coming here. Do you think that's a good idea?"

"I..." He starts, looks up at Sue and then at Carole before continuing, "I...don't...I don't think it's a bad idea."

"You wouldn't hurt him?" She asks delicately.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." He doesn't want to add anything but she seems to be waiting for something so he does, "Sometimes it's just...sometimes I...sometimes it's hard to focus on..um, everything." His voice is very quiet. Sue squeezes his shoulders slightly.

There is silence for a moment. Finn wants to put his arm around Will's shoulder but Sue's hands are in the way. He settles for a reassuring pat on the knee. Kurt notices and does the same thing to Will's other knee.

Burt clears his throat, "There has been speculation around town about this and it's what has me the most worried here. We basically know what you did to that asshole. They released the autopsy results on the news after all. And man, he deserved what he got. Really, I think they ought to give you a freaking medal for doing what you did because we all wanted the chance. I hope the bastard suffered." He shakes his head and leans forward.

Will squirms uncomfortably in his seat even though he's trying very hard not to. He doesn't want to hear about this. He wants him to stop talking. He closes his eyes and sees blood...Monster's bloody face, Quinn's bloody face. He shakes his head and starts counting backwards from twenty in Spanish. Sue's grip tightens on his shoulders again.

"I have to ask this though – did you kill that little girl?" Burt asks bluntly - his elbows on his knees, sitting on the edge of the couch.

Five sets of eyes turn to stare at Will. He can feel them staring. He squeezes his eyes shut more tightly and slowly drops his head. He doesn't want to see their expressions. Either way he answers will be a lie. He didn't physically murder Becky but he didn't protect her either. If he had died like he was supposed to, she'd probably still be here.

His failure is what caused her death.

He's never spoken the words aloud. Even when the detective grilled him and threatened jail time...and a trial...and an execution, he couldn't do it. He couldn't sully her memory with a lie.

The only thing that had saved him from all of that was Quinn. She had spoken to that detective. She had told all of them that he was innocent.

Of course, most of them didn't believe her but there was no proof of his guilt - nothing to hold him on and so he was let go.

"William, you don't need to..." Sue starts but he can't listen to her right now. He shakes his head and she stops talking. He needs silence. He needs to be by himself for a while. He needs them to leave. He can't open his mouth to speak those words though...

It's a long moment before he can muster up the will to speak at all.

"No. I...I...didn't kill Becky. I never laid a hand on her. I just...I didn't...I couldn't save her. It was supposed to be me. Quinn choose me and I didn't think that he would...she chose _me. _I didn't think he would hurt her because she _chose_ me to die. I was supposed to be number twelve for him, not Becky." Sue sucks in a breath through her nose behind him and squeezes his shoulders harder as he continues. She knows exactly what that carving on his shoulder signifies now. "And then everything...happened...and then she was gone." He stands and Sue's hands slip from his shoulders, "Look, I...it's hard to talk sometimes. I...don't mind having your kids over here. It helps...I guess. The distraction. Maybe it helps them too. I don't know. But if you don't want them here, I understand."

He moves towards his bedroom.

Burt stands. Sue glares at him, "William..."

"I just need some time alone, please."And then his bedroom door closes behind him and they hear the lock click into place.

Sue sighs heavily, "Well, this has been terribly productive."

"Yeah, well, we needed to know." Burt mumbles.

"No, no you didn't. It was voyeuristic and unnecessary. He doesn't need to relive all the sordid details of what happened this summer."

"No one was implying that..."

"Mom, just stop please. You can tell that he isn't going to hurt us. Can we just go?" Finn stands and heads for the door. He'll make this up to Will somehow. He knows his mother won't stop him from visiting again.

"Yeah, seriously, Dad." Kurt adds. Stands and follows Finn to the door. "We'll be outside."

Carole and Burt leave silently together a moment later.

Sue sinks down on the couch and rests her face in her hands. She'll stick around for the night and sleep on the couch. She may have started all of this with the sole purpose of helping Quinn but now she really wants to find a way to make everything okay again for Will Schuester as well.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

It's 12:14 in the morning.

It's 12:14 in the morning and Will can't sleep. He's been sitting on the floor against the door since he locked himself in his room more than four hours earlier His back hurts terribly. There is a burning in his lungs that won't go away. He wants to cry but the tears won't come.

They hardly ever come.

He shifts his legs and something hard digs into his hip. He reaches for his pocket...his phone...and slips it out.

11:33 pm Message from Quinn Fabray: I can't sleep. I have to see the therapist tomorrow. Session number four. Hooray.

He wonders if she's still awake. They've been texting back and forth the past week or so. Simple things – 'how are you?', 'what are you doing?', 'some weather we're having.' - nothing important. It's nice to talk to her though. He really does miss her even though he can't bring himself to say the words to her. He can't let her get too close again.

12:16 am Message to Quinn Fabray: Hey, are you still awake?

His phone goes off almost instantly.

12:16 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Yup. The Mary Tyler Moore Show is on. I lead a very exciting life.

12:17 am Message to Quinn Fabray: I know. Sue is watching it too.

He can hear the TV through the door. He feels badly that Sue is probably laying on the couch trying to sleep. It's comfortable enough but she deserves a bed. He doesn't want to see the disappointment or pity on her face right now though. He still doesn't know why she's spending so much time with him but he does know that it physically pains him every time he chokes on his words or does something odd or loses focus around her. It's the same feeling he used to get when he would disappoint his mother except he's not afraid that Sue will sucker punch him because he forgets to make his bed or stares off in space for a little too long.

It's all very strange.

12:18 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Slumber party?

12:19 am Message to Quinn Fabray: Something like that...minus the slumber...and the party...and add in a whole lot of Finn's mom and Kurt's dad.

12:19 am Message from Quinn Fabray: Do tell.

He considers typing his reply but he isn't sure what to say. He hits the call button next to her name without really realizing what he's done but then there is ringing in his ear and it's too late to change his mind.

"Will, I'm so glad...I mean, I'm surprised you're calling." She says by way of greeting. Her voice is quiet given the time but it's...hopeful.

He clears his throat, "I...hi."

"Hi." She repeats sweetly.

"um...I couldn't sleep either." He rubs at the back of his neck to avoid chewing on his lip. It's finally started healing and he doesn't want to look like a freak anymore.

"You said Carole Hudson and Mr. Hummel were there?"

"Yeah. They...Kurt and Finn hadn't told them that they had been coming here and they wanted to make sure I'm not dangerous." He tries and fails to keep the shame out of his voice. She knows just how dangerous he is.

"You're not. You're getting better, Will. It was the head injury."

He sniffles as a response. He feels...strange, as if there is something he needs to do but can't remember what it is. He's felt it since Burt brought up Becky.

Her quiet voice is back, "I have to go to therapy again tomorrow. Eventually I think she'll get tired of the fact that I don't talk to her and she'll kick me out. I've finished a jumbo book of crossword puzzles during the last two sessions so at least I've been productive."

"Maybe you should. Talk to her I mean. Maybe you might...maybe you might feel better."

"Hm. And what are you doing to feel better, Will?" Her voice is still sweet but slightly accusatory.

"Sleeping. Well, not at the moment. But you know...in general." She sighs and he can tell that it's not what she wants to hear but really, he's not doing much of anything. "And...um...video games? And Finn and Puck's homework?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?" She chuckles and he's not sure if she's teasing or not so he keeps quiet, "Really I'm just glad that you're speaking again at all. I missed our talks."

He has too but he can't say it. He feels better now that he's talking to her. Slightly less...off. Like he's remembered part of that thing that he's forgotten.

"Quinn?"

"Yeah?"

"I...Burt asked me about Becky tonight."

She's silent for a long time. They haven't really spoken about her since she died.

"What did he want to know?" She finally asks, hesitantly.

"That...well, it doesn't really matter but, it kind of...well, it maybe put a thought in my head."

"A thought?"

"An idea."

"Okay."

They're dancing around each other. It's what they do.

"You buried her...the first time. You got to say good-bye."

"Will..." She stops herself. There is a tone to her voice. Maybe she's about to start crying. He doesn't want her to start crying.

"I think that maybe I should too. Say goodbye, I mean." He rubs at the back of his neck again. Tugs on his shirt, flattening out invisible wrinkles.

"How? How...would you do that?" And she is crying now but the tears aren't harsh or overpowering.

"She's...well, she's not far from here. Will you...will you take a walk with me?"

"A walk? Now? It's the middle of the night." She doesn't want to turn down the opportunity to see him even if this is going to be horrendously difficult.

"There aren't any people out now." He answers honestly.

"Good point." She laughs brokenly.

"If you're going to get in trouble with your mom..."

"No," she cuts him off, "no...just give me like half an hour. I'll meet you outside the pharmacy."

"Okay."

They hang up at the same time without exchanging good-byes. It's not really necessary. Will changes his clothes and pulls a wool hat low over his head before he quietly unlocks and opens his door.

He feels like a little kid sneaking out of his house.

He creeps as quietly as possible down the hallway and past the living room. Sue is asleep on the couch and the TV is turned down very low. He considers using the fire escape because there is less of a chance that anyone will see him...except he'll have to walk in front of Sue to do so.

He uses the front door instead.

Down the stairs and out the door and onto the street like so many times before except this feels different. It's very cold out. He walks the fifteen minutes to the pharmacy and sits on the back steps. She must have chosen this spot because it's only a block from her house and not that far from his apartment. The cemetery is just down the road.

"I didn't think you'd actually come." Quinn's voice interrupts his thoughts and he turns his head to look at her. Dressed all in black except for his beat up brown leather jacket...a wool hat pulled low. Her blonde hair hidden beneath.

Together they probably look like a couple of thieves skulking around in the night.

"I think I had to." He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets and she is once again reminded of Finn and his mannerisms.

"Should we walk then?" She asks quietly. She wants to reach out and hold the crook of his arm but she doesn't think he'd like that and so she doesn't.

He doesn't answer. Simply starts walking towards their destination. She follows.

They're silent for a couple of minutes as they walk slowly along the deserted street.

"I'm glad you asked me to come with you." She says quietly.

"We need to go together, I think." He can see the gate to the cemetery now.

"Still...I didn't really expect to actually see you again for a while. Even after you said I could come over...I didn't think you actually meant it."

"I...it's just hard, Quinn."

"I know."

"I'm trying."

"I know."

They walk through the gate together.

Shockingly, Will's hand reaches out and takes a hold of Quinn's. She turns surprised eyes towards him but he's staring straight ahead. An intense look on his face. She lets him lead her along the path although she's pretty sure he doesn't know where he is going.

It takes nearly half an hour of walking among the cement stones before they find hers.

Will drops to his knees in the damp grass. His hand clutched in Quinn's drags her down too. She can't help the sob that escapes her mouth at the sight of her name etched in the stone. Will doesn't make a sound.

They stay like that for a long while. Quinn's quiet crying and the wind through the trees are the only sounds that disturb the silence.

Eventually, Will teeters back so that he's sitting instead of kneeling. Quinn follows. They sit shoulder to shoulder, cross-legged with knees touching. Quinn can feel the heat radiating off of him and leans towards it slightly. It's comforting. "It's late, Quinn. She needs to sleep. You should say her prayer."

She turns her head to look up at his face. His eyes are glassy and she knows his mind is only half-here. He needs this though. She needs this. They need to say good-bye."O Lord, our God, King of the Universe. Let the wings of sleep fall upon my eyes, and upon my eyelids. O Blessed One, let me lie down in peace, and rise in peace. Into Your hand I entrust my spirit. Amen."

His hand grips hers again.

"Will, say good-bye to Becky." She whispers it and she isn't sure that he's heard her but then his head turns slowly and he locks eyes with her. "Say good-bye to Becky, Will."

His bottom lip trembles slightly and he presses his mouth together tightly. A single tear tracks its way down his face.

She turns her head towards the marker. Drops his hand – although she doesn't want to, and rocks forward so that she's on her knees again. She puts her hands on the head stone and kisses the cold concrete, "Good-bye, Becky. I will _always_ love you."

She moves so that she's kneeling next to the stone. Turns her head to look at Will. He stares back at her with his trembling mouth and intense eyes. "Say good-bye to Becky, Will."

He doesn't move for a long moment and she doesn't think he's going to but then he's on his knees and crawling the slight distance forward. He reaches out and slowly runs his fingers along Becky's name. Her date of birth. His fingers hesitate before they run along the September 23rd 2010 that marks her date of death. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool stone. Sits that way for a long while.

"It's time, Will." She whispers, "You need to let her go now."

"Good-night, Becky. Good-bye." It's barely audible but she hears it. He lifts his face slightly and kisses her name.

Quinn gives him a few more minutes and then stands and holds out her hand to him. He looks from the stone to her hand to her face before reaching out and placing his hand in her own. She pulls slightly and he stands and follows her towards the gate, their clasped hands swinging slightly between them.

They walk the entire way back to the pharmacy in silence.

"I should be getting back home before my mom figures out that I've left." She drops his hand and instantly misses the warmth that it was providing.

He nods but doesn't say anything. Instead he wraps his arms loosely around her and rests his cheek against the top of her head. She squeezes him back tightly.

"It's going to take time, Will, but things are going to get better." She buries her face in his chest and breathes in his scent. It's as comforting as his heat and she doesn't know when she's going to get this chance again. "You're trying to make things better for yourself."

"Now you need to make things better for yourself. Talk to your therapist please. I want things to get better for you too." He lifts his head and lets her go, stepping back to look at her face. "Please?"

She nods. She will do anything for him. "Text me or call me tomorrow?"

"Okay." He whispers it. Turns to walk away but then remembers something important and faces her again, "I can see your house from here." She nods and he continues, "Walk home before I leave. I want to make sure that you get there okay."

She does as she's told. Stops long enough to look at him and wave good-bye, "I love you, Will."

He waves back but shakes his head sadly, "Don't."

And then she walks away. Back to her house and up the stairs and through the front door. He turns and walks back to his apartment along the dark road. The cold air stings his face and keeps him focused. He uses his front door again and is not overly surprised to see Sue sitting on the couch waiting for him to get back.

"You need to stop doing this, William." Sue sighs and runs her hand over her tired eyes.

"I will. I just...I had to do something."

She nods and moves to lay back down on the couch now that she knows that he is alright. She's too tired to talk about it right now.

"Do you want...I mean, you laid with me in my bed before. It's big enough for...if you wanted to..." He drops his face and mutters towards the ground.

"Sure, Buddy." She answers. She knows that he just doesn't want to feel alone. She follows him to his room and lays on the bed. Waits for him to come out of the bathroom in clean pajamas before she allows herself to close her eyes.

She feels the bed dip down next to her as he lays down and pulls the blankets up, "Good-night, Sue."

"Good-night, William."

He manages to sleep slightly more peaceful that night.


	41. Chapter 41

RIP Mr. Monteith. I hope you are someplace beautiful.

This chapter is rated R for language. So yup...there's your warning.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

"_Will, you need to wake up." _Becky whispers. She's sitting cross-legged about a foot away from his face. He's tried to reach out for her but his arms don't seem to want to move. He should probably care more about that than he actually does. "_Will, you need to wake up now."_

Why does her voice sound so far away? Why does her eyes look different? Why are there so many shadows around her?

"_He's not going to do it, kid. He's pathetic. He's the reason that you're dead." _His mom barks from a few feet away. He really wishes that she would go away. She's telling lies now. How can Becky be dead? She's right here.

Everything around them is very white except for the shadows surrounding Becky - Becky's clothes, the ground, the walls. He can't turn his head to see his mother but he's sure that she'd be white too. He isn't sure how he got here – to this place with it's lack of colors and sounds. It's all very confusing.

"_Will, you need to wake up now."_

He can't answer her back. She was hurt because he opened his mouth and yelled at Monster. How could he have done that? Monster said if he opened his mouth, Becky was going to get hurt and yet he did it anyway. He called him a piece of shit and worthless and...

And then what happened? He can't remember. Monster cut him. He was on the ground and then...and then he was here. But that doesn't make sense. He knows that doesn't make sense.

"_Will, you need to wake up now. Please."_

She's back and he has a second chance now. He isn't going to speak. He isn't going to hurt her again. He'll be quiet and she'll be okay.

Something is pulling on his useless arms. He ignores it.

"_Will, you have to get up. You have to let go of her." _Becky frowns at him. Her mouth isn't moving. He just realizes...it hasn't moved at all. Her head tilts to the side and there is blood dripping down her throat. It stains her white shirt. She's being swallowed by the black shadows and a river of red. He wants to go to her but he still can't move.

"_You'll let me take her or I'll kill us both."_

"_You wouldn't."_

"_He's dead already anyway."_

He doesn't understand what is going on. It's Becky's voice but the words don't make sense. There is too much blood. She's going to die. He has to get to her. Why can't he move? He wants so badly to move.

He blinks rapidly. Tries to clear his head. Becky continues to fade away.

"_He's still alive. He's still a warm fuck." _

"_He's going to die anyway. At least you won't have the satisfaction of doing it yourself."_

"_Prove it. I'll get to watch."_

"_Your toy will be dead. I won't be as easy as he was. I'll fight."_

"_He was a good fuck but I like when I have to fight too, whore."_

Why is Becky saying such things?

Something is on his face. He can't breathe. He tries to struggle but his limbs are still mostly paralyzed. He manages to make his legs twitch slightly. He has to help Becky...

He blinks hard and Becky is gone and there is a weight on his arms. Pins and needles shoot from his fingers up to his shoulders. His head is pounding. His hip hurts terribly. His lungs are on fire and he can't breathe.

Something is being pushed into his face.

"He's moving. Stop it." A muffled voice. Monster.

He's in the basement with Monster.

"Then let me bury her. Let me bury her and you can keep us for a little while longer. Shoot me if you want, go ahead. He'll die soon after anyway if I'm not here to force water down his throat."

And Quinn.

His head is pounding so badly from the lack of oxygen that it feels as though it's going to implode. He's going to die. He knows that he is going to die. He uses the last of his strength to pull his legs up higher towards his chest. It relieves the pressure on his hip slightly. He wants to bring his arms in close too but something is still weighing them down.

"Fine. You'll have one hour to get it done. I'll help you pull her away from him and dig the hole. Now stop."

The thing is raised from his face and he can breathe again. He sucks in a large breath and opens his eyes. The light is blinding and he shuts them again.

"Will, oh God. Are you awake? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." Quinn. But her voice is very far away.

Monster is laughing. It sounds hollow.

He tries to open his eyes again to see Quinn. _Why is she crying?_ But he can't. He feels as though he is drowning. Struggles to break free but it's no use.

"Time is ticking, bitch."

Everything goes blank again.

* … * … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn is still laying on the ground.

After Monster left, she had laid in her own filth for hours, too exhausted and traumatized to move. She thinks she must have fallen asleep at some point. She feels more rested, although she doesn't remember closing or opening her eyes for sleep. There is no noise down here now – no ticking clock, no voices, none of Becky's soft snoring. No way to tell how much time has passed since Monster left or how long she has been on the floor.

She eventually stands. Stumbles shakily to the bathroom where she uses the toilet and then scrubs her face and hands clean roughly. She turns and leans against the wall next to the sink. She has no idea what to do. Will is still laying on the ground - on his side in a puddle of blood with Becky's corpse tucked in tightly against his body. Her head is resting on top of his bent right arm. His left arm is tucked around her awkwardly. She could be sleeping.

Wide, empty eyes say they she isn't.

She should get the body to the couch. She needs to clean Will's back and get him off the ground. Needs to assess the seriousness of his head injury again. She can do this. She couldn't protect Becky in life but she can honor her in death. She deserves more than rotting away on the ground. She deserves a burial. A memorial.

Quinn can't give her that.

She desperately wants to give her that.

She staggers the short distance to where Will is laying prone on the ground. His eyes are closed. His face and hair are covered in so much blood that she can't tell if any of it actually belongs to him. He had headbutted Monster...some of the blood is from that. Monster had rubbed Becky's blood across his face...some of the blood is from that. He had bit his tongue at some point and had spit a great deal of red across his own face.

His blood. Monster's blood. Becky's blood.

None of Quinn's blood.

She chokes on a sob and makes it down to her knees in front of him. Except for the labored up and down of his chest as he breathes, he isn't moving. She places a hand on his shoulder and calls his name several times with no effect. She won't be able to carry him anywhere – he's too heavy – but she can at least get Becky to the couch and then clean all three of them up. She tries to lift his arm from around her but his grip his vice-like. She tries again but if anything, his hold on the body only tightens. She feels fresh tears prickling at her eyes and nearly chokes on her words as she tugs on his arm yet again, "Will, you need to let go of her."

Nothing. He doesn't even flinch.

He's as stiff and unmoving as Becky's cold corpse.

She gives up.

It's too hard. She doesn't want to engage in a tug-of-war over Becky's body. She stands and moves to the sink where she wets a few towels. She can at least clean the carving on his back so it doesn't get infected.

She does.

The deep lacerations ooze fresh blood as soon as she pats away what has already dried. It's hideous looking and there is no way that it isn't going to leave a scar. He'll be marked as number 12 until the day he dies...which probably isn't too far off. She uses the other towels to wipe the blood off of his face and hair. He's still covered in it so she doesn't know why she bothered. She rinses the towels in the sink until the water stops running pink down the drain and then fills a plastic soup container with water. She doesn't try to take Becky away from him this time – she tilts his head as far upwards as possible and forces his mouth open with her fingers. Pours the water down his throat. He sputters and chokes but she's pretty sure he swallowed some. She lays his head back down gently and wipes the liquid from his chin with her hand. She drinks the rest of the water herself.

This goes on for three days before Monster comes back.

Quinn creates a bed on the floor next to Will and Becky. She covers him with a blanket and places a pillow beneath his head. She wants to cover Becky's face with a blanket to honor her but she doesn't want to take the chance that it will cause confusion for Will if he happens to wake up. She pulls the mattress from the bed onto the ground and sleeps on it even though she doesn't think she deserves the comfort. She's in so much pain that she just can't sleep on the hard concrete. She spends each day trying to ignore the hunger gnawing on her insides as she stares at Will's unmoving form.

She doesn't bother to turn on the TV – she doesn't deserve the distraction. She doesn't bother to wash up – the room smells horrendously anyway. Becky's body is giving off an odor and she's almost positive that Will has pissed himself. She hasn't cleaned him up again. She can't do anything to clean Becky up. What is the point of cleaning herself up?

She's internally hoping that an infection will set in from the wound on Will's shoulder and he'll die. If that happens she can kill herself too – find something sharp and slit her wrists. End this for all of them.

They'd be better off.

She stays laying on her mattress. She only gets up to use the toilet and to get water to force down Will's throat. She knows he's dehydrated – his lips are chapped terribly and his skin is very dry – so anything she can get down his throat will help. She wants him to die peacefully. Dying of dehydration would not be peaceful and so she prevents it as best she can.

She chugs water twice a day to take the edge off of her stomach pains but it doesn't really help. The rest of her time is spent sleeping and staring at the rise and fall of Will's chest. She is tired all of the time. She is in pain all of the time. She wants to cry all of the time.

She has no more tears left.

She's sleeping when Monster finally comes back. The scabbed over laceration on his cheek stands out against a deep purple bruise. When she sees it, she feels a pang of satisfaction in her gut. Will did that.

"It smells like shit down here. What the fuck, heifer? Why do I give you soap if you aren't going to use it?" He laughs bitterly.

Quinn doesn't answer him. Fuck him. She isn't going to grovel to him.

"She's a little gray. Maybe you should feed her or something?" He points at Becky and then laughs again.

Quinn once again remains quiet. She stares at Will's calm face. She wishes she could just turn everything off too...maybe she wouldn't miss him so much then.

"If we aren't going to have fun anymore, what is the point of keeping you around?" His voice turns thoughtful. Quinn glances up at him but he's focused on Becky. She looks back at Will. "I shouldn't have done that. She was a nice kid. Sometimes I can't control myself. I didn't even get a chance to play with her."

_Sick fuck. _She wants to scream but she doesn't. No point.

"Is he dead too? That's a shame. He was so pretty." He stoops and reaches his hand out towards Will's face.

"No. Don't touch him!" Quinn sits up quickly and the world spins for a moment. She has to close her eyes tightly to stomp down the nausea.

"Oh, she's still got the feisty in her! I like that!" His hand moves from where it was creeping towards Will and he musses her hair instead. His hand is heavy and her stomach lurches at the touch. She manages not to vomit. "So I have two of you left? That's fantastic because I have two whole weeks off and I was really wondering how I was going to spend them. We'll need to do something about that smell though. Little Miss Thang is starting to get ripe and...did he piss himself? How long has he been like that?"

"Leave him alone." She mutters as she wraps her arms around herself. Two weeks? Hopefully they'll both be long dead before his vacation is over. Then he'll have to watch movies or go to the beach or do something else normal. Something a psycho wouldn't do. Asshole.

Her head hurts so badly it's becoming hard to stay focused...

Monster reaches for Will again, "Leave him alone!"

He keeps going...reaches past him and settles his hands on Becky, "Gross. She's stiff. I'll get rid of her and then we can get the cleaner down here and get rid of that smell. He'll need a shower...you too actually..." His voice trails off as he pokes at Becky.

"What...what are you going to do with her?"

"Why do you care? Same thing I did with the others. I'll drop her somewhere the maggots can get to her before the cops do. Get rid of most of the evidence. She's just trash now. It doesn't matter." He turns his head to stare back at her and she wants to spit in his face but refrains.

"You can't. Bury her. She needs to be buried." She whispers. There's no need to be loud.

He laughs, "Bury her?! What the hell for?!"

"Because she died and she deserves it. She deserves to be buried. To have a funeral."

"She isn't even a person anymore, heifer. Why would I waste me time?"

"Let me do it. Right outside. It wouldn't take long." She looks him in the eye. She can't let Becky be tossed away like garbage. "Please."

He stares at her for a long moment. "What's in it for me?"

She thinks. Considers his question. She'll give him whatever he wants. It doesn't matter anymore. They're as good as dead any way, "Anything. I won't fight you anymore. You can have either one of us whenever you want."

He laughs. "Fine. You can bury her outside. Get the corpse and lets go."

Her temporary victory is snatched away just like that. She scoots forward and tugs on Will's arm, "Will, you need to wake up now."

He doesn't budge at all.

She tries again and again and again. She can't lift his arm at all. Monster is clearly getting irritated. "Will, you need to wake up now!" She pulls and pulls and he doesn't move at all. She tries to pull Becky away but his grip is so tight that she doesn't budge either. "Will, you need to wake up now. Please!"

She uses all of her strength to pull on his arm. It remains rigid. His face remains slack. She doesn't understand. "Will, you have to get up. You have to let go of her."

"Just leave the little bitch. Let her rot enough and we can slide her right out from underneath him." Monster growls irritably.

She needs to bury Becky. She can't let that happen to her or to Will. Can't let her rot away while he holds on to her corpse. "You'll let me take her or I'll kill us both."

"You wouldn't." He scoffs incredulously.

She feels a tear streak down her face, "He's dead already anyway."

She hates herself for saying it. For believing it.

"He's still alive. He's still a warm fuck."

Asshole. "He's going to die anyway. At least you won't have the satisfaction of doing it yourself."

He laughs, "Prove it. I'll get to watch."

"Your toy will be dead. I won't be as easy as he was. I'll fight." She feels sick to her stomach for saying it but she needs to keep trying. She needs to bury Becky...

"He was a good fuck but I like when I have to fight too, whore." He laughs again. She doesn't understand what is so funny. It pisses her off. Her hands are shaking. He doesn't even look at them as if they're people.

Maybe they aren't people.

She stares at Will's unmoving form. He's already dead. He's not coming back. She can bury him with Becky...make sure that he isn't thrown away like garbage too. She'll let herself die afterward and won't have to worry about him suffering alone after she is gone. She can end it for all of them.

She reaches behind herself and grabs her pillow.

She wants to say something profound. She wants to kiss him. She wants to tell him how much he has meant to her and how much she loves him. Monster is staring at her with his cold, unfeeling eyes. Dark like his soul.

She says nothing as she reaches forward and presses the pillow against Will's face. He doesn't react – just the up and down of his chest as his lungs try to find air. She pushes down harder and starts to count backward from one-hundred just to have something to focus on besides the fact that she is murdering the man she loves.

His legs twitch upwards slightly beneath the blanket and she pushes the pillow down harder. It should be over soon.

"He's moving. Stop it." Monster grunts but doesn't move to stop her. His hand tightens of the ever present gun.

Quinn pushes down harder. It's not Will. It's just his body's reaction to try and save itself. His mind has been gone for days and it's her fault.

"Then let me bury her. Let me bury her and you can keep us for a little while longer. Shoot me if you want, go ahead. He'll die soon after anyway if I'm not here to force water down his throat."

Will's legs move upwards until his knees collide with Becky's body and can't move any further. Quinn pushes down harder.

"Fine. You'll have one hour to get it done. I'll help you pull her away from him and dig the hole. Now stop."

Quinn wants to keep going until she's sure that he's dead. She doesn't want him to suffer any longer but Monster has given her what she wants and she's pretty sure that if she keeps going any longer, she won't be able to bury any of them. He'll shoot her and then they'll all be tossed out like trash. At least this way, she can honor Becky now and then maybe he'll let her bury Will too after he dies.

It should be soon.

She pulls the pillow away and gasps. Will's pain-filled green eyes are staring up at her. He's struggling for breath, gulping in air too fast - he's going to hyperventilate.

He was awake. He heard what she was saying. He thinks she wants him dead.

His eyes close and she sobs loudly.

"Will, oh God. Are you awake? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to..." She silences herself. He's not moving anymore except for his labored breathing. She can tell he's gone again.

Monster laughs loudly. His cheeks turn pink with his humor. She drops the pillow and covers her hands with her mouth.

"Time is ticking, bitch." He chuckles and then grabs a hold of Becky's body and roughly pulls it free from Will's grasp. He's much stronger than she is. He didn't even struggle. If she had been able to do that days ago, none of this would have happened.

She moves automatically. Takes the body from him and lifts it into her arms. Monster leads her up the two sets of stairs and through the cabin until they are standing under the stars. He picks up a shovel from against the side of the house and breaks ground beneath a large oak tree.

Quinn kneels and arranges Becky's body. She combs her hair as best she can with her fingers until it looks much like it did while she was still alive. She straightens her clothes and ties her shoes and then kneels by the body and prays until Monster barks that he is finished. Maybe God will hear her now that she's not in the basement.

She doesn't even think about escaping while he is digging.

The hole that he has dug nearly isn't deep enough and it's so narrow that she has to fold Becky's arms over her chest in order for the body to fit. Monster begins to scoop dirt to bury her with but Quinn takes the shovel from him roughly and does it herself.

He seems amused by her actions.

It doesn't take long to fill in the hole and when the work is complete, she looks up to the sky. The stars are very bright – a million specks of light that have attended her funeral. A ray of light from the moon is peeking through the trees above and it rests across Becky's grave. She's at peace. At least she's at peace.

Monster surprisingly allows her a couple of minutes in silence before he pushes her roughly back towards the cabin. She retraces the path through the rooms upstairs, down the first flight of stairs, and then down the second as soon as he unlocks and opens the door. "It's late and I'm going home to bed. Now that the rot is cleared away, clean up lover boy and yourself. I'll be back tomorrow with the cleaner to get rid of that shit smell."

He slams the door in her face and she slides down against the wall until she's sitting. Buries her face in her hands. She just wants it to be over.

She just wants it all to be over..


	42. Chapter 42

Almost 400 reviews? Thank you all very much for reading and for taking the time to offer your kind words, follows, and favorites. I don't think I would have made it through writing this beast without you guys. There are four or five chapters left (depending on the length of each). This monster took six months to write...that's insane.

Think you know how it's going to end? Bah ha ha.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Will is startled awake by a knock on his door. He had fallen asleep on the couch while reading – something he hadn't done in a few days. Someone always seemed to be in his apartment lately – Kurt, Finn, Sue, Puck. Even Carole Hudson had stopped by with a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. Will had devoured them while they played Rummy. That had been a nice morning even though she kept frowning sadly at him when she thought he wasn't looking.

His own mother had never made him cookies.

Quinn had yet to come over despite nearly a week passing by since their night together at the cemetery. Her mother had been pissed that she had left the house so late at night and her therapy and tutoring sessions were keeping her fairly occupied. Still, they managed to speak on the phone every night before bed.

Truthfully, he enjoyed the company of each of his visitors but after they left, he always felt horrendously exhausted. Physically and emotionally drained. He missed the afternoon naps that always took the edge off of his headache and left him feeling slightly less uncomfortable than normal. The only other thing that ever managed to even out his emotions was Quinn. Quinn and sleep...that's what he needed. It's also what he didn't deserve.

The person on the other side of the door knocks again and Will pushes the blanket off of his legs and moves down the hallway as quietly as possible. He places his hands against the door and looks through the peephole...Santana.

He watches her raise her hand and knock again. Watches as she uses the same hand to wipe the tears off of her cheeks. Watches as she folds her arms around herself as if she's trying to hold in her organs.

She's wearing his sweatshirt.

She drops her head and turns to walk away. He could let her go. He could go back to sleep.

He doesn't.

He hears her quiet sob and his hand moves to the lock. He pulls open the door and pokes his head into the hallway. She's stopped walking but hasn't turned around.

He clears his throat slightly. Stands awkwardly in the doorway in his pajamas. Opens his mouth to speak but can't think of anything to say. Shuts it again.

She must sense his discomfort because she turns around and walks the short distance to his door. Her shoulder brushes his chest as she moves past him into the apartment. He sucks a breath in through his nose and closes the door. Follows her into the living room where she is already sitting.

"Were you sleeping, Mr. Data? It's after 2. It's usually only drunks that sleep that late." She sniffles after she is done speaking. Her voice is much quieter than normal.

He pulls on the hem of his t-shirt. He doesn't like wearing short sleeves around people but he wasn't expecting company and he was really hot earlier. He's still really hot. He feels exposed even though she's not looking at him.

"Still not speaking, huh?" She fidgets with his remote control. Puts her feet up on the coffee table but doesn't turn on the TV.

"um...no. I mean...yes. I'm...I'm trying. Uh – shouldn't you be in school, Santana?" He sits on the other end of the couch and pulls his blanket over his shoulders. It makes him feel better slightly even though his skin is on fire.

She smirks, "I don't like feeling naked either. I used to wear Brittany's Cheerios jacket but people were starting to call me crazy. Your sweater reminds me of her too...even though she'd never be caught dead in it. People stare at me less when I'm not wearing her jacket. I can only fight so many assholes in a day."

She's rambles out the words quickly and he can't really follow what she's talking about. He nods a few times just so she doesn't think that he was ignoring her. "So...school?"

"I got suspended again. I hit one of the hockey players across the face with his stick." She smirks but it looks forced.

"Why would you...why...what did he do?"

She smiles fully then. Grateful that he has placed the blame away from her with his question. "He said something rude about Brittany. 'The Cheerios don't have any good tail since that blonde was shot.' I overheard him. I wanted to kill him."

He scratches at the back of his neck – wipes away the sweat he finds there. Stares straight ahead for a few long moments before finally speaking, "I get why you would do that. I really do...but you...you really don't want to give into those...um...those feelings."

"What feelings? Cracking someone in the face? He deserved it. Unfortunately my mom said if I got caught fighting again, she wasn't going to let me back in the house." She sniffles again but her face is a stony mask.

"Maybe he deserved it but...but you shouldn't let yourself go there."

She turns her head and stares at the side of his face for a long while before answering, "It's the only thing that makes me feel anything other than sad or angry or ashamed. I get satisfaction out of teaching them a lesson."

He wants to ask if she got any satisfaction out of what she had said to Quinn but he doesn't. He doesn't want to hurt her. "Where are you going to go if you can't go home?"

"My grandma doesn't live far from here but she doesn't get home until seven so the door is locked."

"So you...you're going to stay here?" He doesn't really want her to stay that long. He wants to go back to sleep.

"Very good, Mr. Data. I overheard Puck and Frankenteen talking about how they've been hanging out here. We had a pretty good time in that alley. I thought you might want to pay me back for the sandwich and coffee and the not ratting you out thing." She flips on the TV and brings up the channel guide, "I could have guessed that you'd only have basic cable."

"um...sorry." He tucks his blanket more tightly around himself and leans against the back of the couch. Rests his head and closes his eyes. They're silent for a long time. Dr. Phil's voice is the only sound that drifts through the apartment.

Will feels himself starting to nod off.

"So, is Quinn coming over today?"

He hears her voice but her words are muffled. He opens his eyes and turns them towards her. She repeats the question very slowly after he fails to respond. "um...sh...Quinn hasn't been here."

"Oh. I thought she had been coming by with the others." It's a statement, not a question, but he shakes his head anyway. She's quiet for a moment before she speaks again, "I was kind of hoping to talk to her. I mean, sure, I have every right to be upset and she really should be the one apologizing to me but...I think maybe I should say 'sorry'...or whatever."

She's rambling again but he catches most of her words. _Quinn should be apologizing for what?_ He knows what Santana should apologize for. "She hasn't been here. I think...I mean, I know...she's at home. She isn't...she can't go back to school for a while."

"Because of the suicide thing?"

He turns his head to stare at her. She stares back.

Dr. Phil drones on in the background.

"You shouldn't have said the things that you said." Will finally breaks the silence after his vision starts to get fuzzy from their impromptu staring contest.

Her eyes narrow, "Are you judging me now too?"

"No. I have no right to. I've said and done things I shouldn't have too." He scratches at his neck again. Turns his eyes back towards the TV. "But I think you know that you shouldn't have said those things."

She sucks in a deep breath, "Yeah. I do." She's quiet for a few minutes before she speaks again, "I blamed her. I probably still do. I don't know."

Will stays quiet. He can tell that she's not finished. He isn't sure why she's chosen him to confess to, but he owes it to her to try to listen to what she's saying.

She clears her throat, "Brittany and I got into a fight about a month before that shit face took you. I was mean to her. She...she told me that she loved me. She told me that she wanted to be with me and I...I was so afraid. I was afraid of what my parents would say. I was afraid of what me grandmother would say. I was afraid of what everyone at school would say. I told her I wasn't a fag and that I would never like her that way. I mean, sucking face with someone is a lot different than admitting that...that you're gay. Admitting that I'm gay."

She's crying quietly now but she doesn't try to hide it like she normally would. Will sits on his hands. He doesn't know how to comfort her even though he knows he should.

"So she told me that if I couldn't admit my feelings, that she didn't want to talk to me for a while. I let her go. I let her go because it was only two months til school was starting up again and we both could use the time to grow and shit. I needed time to think and I would see her again soon and then we could talk and sort everything out. I knew she was hanging out with Quinn more. They were using the buddy system because of the people that went missing. Before our fight, I was with Brittany when they found the first body. She was so scared and sad so I was happy that she had someone to go out with. I never thought...I never thought I wouldn't see her again. I never thought she'd be...that she would be taken away from me. I should have told her that I loved her. She never would have been with Quinn that day if I hadn't been such a coward. I hate myself. I can't stand to look in the mirror. My skin crawls every day that I show up to school and she's not there. No one understands. No one wants to understand. They think I'm a bitch and I'm crazy and I am but...I just miss her so much."

She drops her head and sobs into her hands. Will sucks his lip into his mouth. Ignores the sting that goes along with it. He doesn't know how to handle this. Santana blames herself for Brittany's death. She's just come out of the closet to him. She feels utterly alone.

He blames himself for Brittany and Becky and Quinn. He blames himself for a lot of things. He too feels utterly alone most of the time.

He slowly slides across the couch until their shoulders are just barely touching. That's enough. She turns her body and cries against his chest. He raises his arm and puts it around her shoulder, tucking the blanket around her in the process. He leans back and puts his feet up on the coffee table next to hers.

She cries for a long time and he lets her.

"I'm sorry for unloading all of this shit on you. I just...you're the only one who will understand...except maybe for Q but I managed to royally fuck that one up." She sniffles and discreetly wipes her eyes. It doesn't matter. His t-shirt is soaked through.

"You could call her." He wants to sound more sure than he does. Instead, his voice is merely a whisper.

"I could. I doubt she'd answer though. I was a bitch. A mega bitch. I was looking for anyone to blame besides myself." She's still leaning on him. Dr. Phil is over and the news is on now. He wants to shut off the TV but the remote is still clutched in her hand. The news reminds him of the basement...of _him. _He tries to ignore the obnoxious weather man's voice.

"I could...uh...I could call her. And then maybe you could talk to her. I can ask." His arm is falling asleep. He wiggles his fingers a little and she tucks in more closely. The red-headed. female news reporter starts chatting with the weather man.

_'There is a chance of scattered showers over the weekend. In other news, kidnapping and rape victim William Schuester is a murderer. He's a rapist. He's a monster.' Emma's voice sing songs from the TV._

His eyes dart to the TV...Emma isn't there. The two newscasters stare back at him. He looks away.

"I mean if you were going to call her anyway, I could maybe talk to her. You know, if she's cool with that."

He has to shake his head slightly and try hard to follow her words.

It's too hard. He feels himself losing focus.

_'Hey, slut, you watching? Why don't we tell the viewers how much of a screw up you are?' His dad chuckles. Emma joins in the laughter._

He clenches his fists. Tries to ignore them. They aren't real. He knows that they aren't real. He's tired and he's crazy and his head hurts and...

"Hey, Mr. Data, you alright?" Santana is sitting up now even though he didn't feel her move. Her hands are on his shoulders. They feel icy against his hot skin, even through his t-shirt.

"Sh...the TV...can you..." He stutters out nonsense but she thankfully gets it and shuts the TV off quickly. He closes his eyes tightly and breathes deeply, trying to clear his mind. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Are you going to hyperventilate? Do you want me to call an ambulance?" Her hands are still on his shoulders. She massages his muscles in what she hopes is a soothing manner. He tries to focus on that and it helps slightly. "You're really hot. I think I should call an ambulance."

"No!" He looks up at her, "Sorry. Please don't. I'm...I'm fine."

"Bullshit. You don't look fine." She squeezes down to the point where it hurts slightly. "You listened to me. Spill it."

They stare at each other for a long moment. He wants to tell her to leave. That he wants to sleep and she shouldn't have come in the first place. That she should go home and try to work things out with her mother. He can't. "I...sometimes I see things...and hear things...especially when I'm tired.. Things that aren't really there. And...sometimes it's hard to focus because...because I...the doctor said that I...well, my brain is fucked up."

Her eyes narrow. He recognizes the look. He knows she's about to say something rude or sarcastic or insulting. He drops his head and waits for it. It doesn't come. Instead she wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly. "Don't make the same mistakes as me. You can't get over this by yourself. You need to talk to someone or see or doctor or something "

"I...I don't want to go back to the hospital. I can't go back there again. The doctors...they know everything that he..." He scrunches his eyes shut. _They know he raped me. They know what I did to __Quinn. They know what I did to Monster._ "I can't face those people"

"You need medication. You need to be monitored." She scolds.

"I took the drugs they gave me." He bites back. He doesn't want to be reprimanded by a teenager.

"Yeah. Antibiotics and painkillers I bet. That isn't going to help with a head injury." She sits back to stare him down.

He says nothing. She's mostly right – antibiotics, painkillers, and anti-seizure drugs actually. He just doesn't care. He isn't going back to the hospital. He would never have gone back at all if he didn't need his stitches out and Quinn hadn't tried to hurt herself. He doesn't like the way the doctors and nurses stare at him.

"And what if I let Coach Sue in on all of this? What do you suppose she would do? She's been coming over here too, right? Bet she wouldn't be too happy if she knew that you were hearing voices, Schizo." She lets his shoulders drop and moves so that she's sitting on the coffee table. She wants to stare him down.

"I'm done talking about this." He feels his anger rising and once again sits on his hands. He pulls his feet off of the table and sits back."Do you want me to call Quinn now or not?"

"Yeah. Call her." She folds her arms over her chest and glares at him.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials her number. She answers after the second ring. "Will, hi. You usually don't call this early. Is there anything wrong?"

"No." He realizes his voice sounds angry. He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to five. His voice is level when he speaks again, "Quinn, will you do something for me?"

"Anything. You know that. I have a tutoring session in a few minutes though. Do you want to wait until after I'm done?"

"No. Could we...um...Santana is here." He drops his eyes and stares at his socks.

She's silent for a few beats before he hears her breathy chuckle, "Do you want me to call the cops or something?"

"No. Quinn, I...could you...she wants to talk to you." He wishes he could see her face, "If you want to, that is..."

"Will..."

"You don't..." His eyes go up to Santana's. She's chewing nervously on her lower lip. Her leg is bouncing up and down. She's clearly anxious.

"No. It's okay. Just...put me on speaker phone." She interrupts with a quiet sigh and he does what she has asked.

"Q."

"Santana. What...you want to talk?" Her voice is quiet, edgy. Will slides the phone onto the coffee table and rests his face in his palms. He doesn't want to watch the look on Santana's face.

"Yeah, I did. I do." She takes a deep breath. "um...I know when I'm wrong, Q, and I was wrong. I'm sorry for saying the shit I said to you. I really am. I understand if you don't want to be friends again but I just wanted you to know that."

Quinn sniffles and then breathes deeply, "Do you want something from me?"

"No. Not really. I know I've been a bitch and really, I think I've earned the right but not to you...you don't deserve the shit I said to you. The hockey dicks deserve a stick to the face but...but you aren't them. You didn't hurt Brittany or me and you don't need my shit. So I'm sorry. I really am." She sniffles too.

Will feels as though he's intruding on what should have been a private conversation. He really wants to go back to sleep. His head is pounding.

"Thank you. That...that really means a lot. I know how hurt you are and...I well, nothing I can say will make it better. I wish I could take it all away. I would have apologized before but I didn't think you'd want to hear it." She's crying now. Trying to speak through her tears.

"I wish I could take it all away for you too, Q. I wish I could dig that fucker up and smash his skull in myself for what he did to all of you. I'm glad that you're okay. I know I haven't said that to you and I should have. I should have been there for you. Brittany would have been. I should have done a lot of things." She's crying too. Will's stomach clenches. He isn't sure if it's because of the pounding in his skull or because of the sound of their tears.

"Well, there are a few things you've done that I'm glad you can't change. Tom Hannaford? That douche from last month that you smacked over the head with his football helmet? Totally deserved it." She chuckles through her tears. Tries to lighten the mood.

Santana laughs bitterly but there is also a slight humor behind it, "He really, really did. I should have kicked him in the balls while he was down but the Beiste pulled me off of him too quickly."

"I heard about it from Tina. She said it was spectacular. That as soon as you heard him talking about Brittany, you went all Lima Heights on his ass." Santana chuckles and Quinn sighs tiredly.

Will's stomach contracts hard and he has to stand quickly and rush to the bathroom. He hears both girls call after him. He just makes it to the toilet before he's puking up the eggs he had made himself for breakfast. He's still gagging when he feels Santana's hand on his back.

"Q, he's sick. Like Exorcist sick." She reaches past his head and flushes the toilet for him."I think Mr. Data is turning into a real boy. Talking and puking all in one day."

"Will? Will, are you okay?" Quinn's worried voice is almost directly in his ear. He hears her mother call her for her tutoring session. "Will, answer me or I'm..."

"I think I caught Sue's flu." He answers pathetically. He doesn't want to be threatened anymore today.

"He has a fever." She turns on the sink, fills up his rinsing cup with cold water, and hands it to him. He accepts it gratefully. Stands, rinses his mouth, and then pads miserably to his bed.

Santana follows him into his room. "He looks like he's down for the count for the night. I told him that he was way too hot. Couch Sylvester and the rest of his posse should be here soon. I'll wait around until they get here to make sure he's alright. Why don't you do your tutoring thing and then see if your mom will let you come over tomorrow. You'd like a movie buddy tomorrow wouldn't you, Mr. Data?"

He shrugs and then closes his eyes. He feels like shit. He's too tired to think about tomorrow. He just wants to sleep.

"Why don't you ask the others if they want to come over too? We could have a mini Glee reunion. Not everyone yet...just Puck, Finn, and Kurt. Plus me and you...and Coach Sue if she wants. The people he's used to. I think it will be good for all of us. I'd like to see you again. I mean...if you want to."

"Oh, I mean...I don't think I have any other plans." Santana replies. She doesn't want Quinn to know how much the prospect of that reunion excites her. "What about you, Mr. Data? Is it a date?" He doesn't answer and so she pokes his shoulder. Still nothing. "uh – he's already asleep. Hopefully he sleeps it off. Um – you could call me back after your thing. I'll wait around to tell Coach Sue that he's caught her plague but then I have to head to my grandmother's house.."

Quinn's mother yells in the background again. "Uh. Yeah, I'll call. Please make sure you keep a really good eye on him, okay? He's not that strong yet and...well, just take care of him until Coach gets there, please?"

"Of course. I'll just sit here and watch his shitty basic cable until she gets here. Don't worry. He'll be fine. Just do your thing and then call me back."

"Santana, thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. I'll see you tomorrow." She hangs up and then tugs Will's blanket over his still form. His cheeks are flushed and for a moment she wants to punch something. Poor guy just can't catch a break. He's sleeping peacefully enough though so she leaves him and sits on the couch in the living room. Watches Family Guy reruns until she hears the knock on the door about an hour later. She smirks and stands to answer the door. It's always nice to have a little fun.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Finn asks as soon as she swings open the door.

"Nice to see you too, Sasquatch." She stands aside and he, Kurt, and Puck walk past her and into the living room, "What are you guys now? The three muske-douchebags?"

Finn looks around the room almost frantically. "Where is he? What did you..."

"Oh, shut up." She cuts him off, "He's sleeping off a killer case of the flu. Did you think I murdered him or something? Is this because I'm Latina? Racist."

"Santana, do you ever just...stop?" Kurt asks irritably.

"Nope, can't say as I do, Liberace." She crosses her arms and stares down the three boys.

Puck is the first to quit the staring contest. He shrugs his shoulders and plops down on the couch. "So we going or...? I mean if dude has the flu, he probably doesn't want us hanging around."

"Well, I'm waiting for Coach Sylvester. You douchers can do what you want." Santana sits down on the couch next to Puck, puts her feet up to mark her territory.

"Well, I'm not leaving you here alone with him." Finn mutters angrily and then begins walking down the hallway.

"Where are you going? He's sick. Unless you're planning on watching him sleep..."

"I'm making sure for myself that he's okay. I'm not taking your word for it. Not after what you did to Quinn." He tries to stare her down. She doesn't budge.

"Yeah, about that – Quinn and I are good now. Well, at least we might be. She wants to have a get-together tomorrow. A little Friday movie night. You guys in?" She tries to sound as non-nonchalant as possible. They don't need to know how much she wants their company.

Puck shrugs."I'm in."

Kurt gaps, "Are you...how the hell did this happen? She forgave you? She tried to kill herself because of you!"

"Yeah, well, we had a little heart to heart. It was beautiful. Pretty sure they're going to make a Lifetime movie about it. You can be played by the anorexic Olsen twin. It'll be precious."

"God! Shut up!" Kurt throws his hands up in exasperation.

Santana smirks, "It's fine. Don't feel bad about it. Finn will be played by a silver-backed gorilla. No one will know the difference."

"You're such a bitch." Finn snaps at her. There is a long moment of silence before he speaks again, "If Quinn wants us there, we'll be there. But I want you to know that I'm not doing this for you."

She smirks again. She'll work on the sarcasm. She really doesn't want to alienate anyone further. It's just easier to insult or hurt someone than it is to cry or say sorry. She opens her mouth to speak but before she gets the chance, Sue has appeared seemingly from no where and she snaps it shut again. "Santana, what are you doing here?"

"Organizing a reunion. Now that it's done, I can get going." She stands and faces her former coach, "You're going to be pretty busy anyway, Ma. I think Pazuzu in there is in for a long night up-chucking."

"What are you talking about?"

"Will is sick." Kurt interrupts. He's done with her snark. "She says that he has the flu."

"It's been real, guys." She walks past all of them and heads for the door. "Tell Mr. Data that I'll see him tomorrow."

And then she's gone and four sets of eyes are left staring at the door, "Someone want to tell me what's going on?"

Kurt sighs. It's going to be a long couple of days.


	43. Chapter 43

I'm not dead. Yay?

Sorry for the delay. Thank you all for all your kindness!

3 more chapters after this one.

Rated R. Hard R. Super R. Minor? Don't read. Sensitive? Don't read.

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Despite Monster's insistence, Quinn doesn't clean Will up. She doesn't clean herself up either. She made a deal with a psycho and she broke it.

Whatever. Fuck him. She's done.

After making sure that he's still breathing, she leaves Will on the ground where he's laying. She turns on the TV to a rerun of Dick Van Dyke and sits on the couch. Hopefully that shithead will be back soon. He'll see that she didn't clean up – that she still smells like sweat and dirt and Will is still covered in piss and blood, and he'll fly into a rage and kill them both.

Suicide by asshole. It's not ideal but it will do. She wants to end Will's suffering. He may have opened his eyes and looked at her after she pressed the pillow to his face, but he wasn't there. Not really.

At least that's what she's going to tell herself...

She wants to end her own suffering as well. Not until she knows Will is dead first though.

She stays on the couch for hours. She doesn't check on Will once. Doesn't look back at him at all. She should hate herself for it. She knows they are going to die soon. She should want to spend every last minute with him, even if he's not quite there but...she can't. She doesn't want to hold his cold hand. She doesn't want to see his slack face. She doesn't want to see him dirty and used and broken.

She wants her Will back. She could face this if she had her Will back.

Monster comes back a long time later. She isn't sure how long has passed – hours at least. Maybe days. It doesn't matter.

She doesn't hear him open the door or walk down the stairs. Suddenly he's just there – a scowl on his ugly face. "You didn't wash up."

"Nope." She pops the 'p' and his eyes narrow dangerously. She can smell the scent of the lemon cleanser and wonders where he stashed the buckets. She turns her head and glances at Will. He hasn't moved – not that she had expected him to. As she's turning her head back, she sees the buckets at the bottom of the stairs.

"We had a deal."

"Yeah? Forgive me for not wanting to stick to a deal with a rapist, murdering, piece of shit." She'll goad him and it will be over quick.

He lunges forward and slaps her hard across the face. Twice. He brings his hand back a third time but stops himself – a slow smile spreading across his face. "Nice try, bitch. You want to get me angry. One of the other whores tried this too. Not going to work. Now clean up."

"No." Her voice squeaks. She wishes that it hadn't but her jaw hurts terribly. There will be a bruise.

"No?" He laughs and then stomps across the room towards Will.

"What are you doing?" She twists around to face them. Hopefully this is it.

Monster's nose crinkles in disgust, "Well, I was going to fuck him for you but he's filthy." He kneels, removes his switch blade from his pocket and flips it open. "Next best thing. You going to do as I ask?" His eyes meet Quinn's, a smile still on his twisted face. He holds the knife in one hand and threads the other through Will's hair, pulling his head back. Will doesn't react in the slightest.

"Fuck off." Her eyes go to Will's face and she silently says good-bye to him. This is it. Monster will stab him or slit his throat like he did to Becky or...

Will's eyes shoot open and he screams out as the knife cuts into the "12" already carved into his shoulder blade. His hands clench into fists and then open wide. He tries to drag himself away from the pain but Monster holds fast and continues to drag the blade across his flesh. His head is bent back as far as possible, his neck completely bared.

Quinn shoots to her feet, "Stop it! Stop it!" He isn't going to kill him. He's going to torture him to make her comply. He'll starve to death before Monster ends him.

"You going to listen, bitch?" He sticks the knife in slightly deeper and drags it around to trace the "2". Will cries out louder, tears streaming down his face. His eyes are clenched shut tightly. His hands are still working in vain to find purchase on the blood-stained concrete.

Her hands go up to her mouth. Maybe the shock will kill him. Maybe she should let Monster keep going.

The knife moves to the "1". Monster drags it slowly – again...and again...and again...

Will cries out again. A garbled mess of words pour out of his mouth. "Stop. Please. Stop...Stop...Becky...Emma...Quinn. Quinn!"

Her own name is shouted in desperation and she has no idea what it means but she's had enough. She can't do this to him. If he's going to die, it can't be like this. "Stop it! I'll do it! Leave him alone!"

Monster sneers. Laughs. Removes the blade and rubs it clean against Will's denim-covered thigh. Will is breathing hard, trying to control the throbbing pain in his shoulder. His eyes are on Quinn and she knows that he sees her. He's truly awake for the first time since Becky died. Monster hooks his hands under Will and hauls him up so that he's on his knees. Will teeters forward but Monster's strong arms pull him back up and then hold him still.

It's the first time in days that he's been upright.

"Since we're all here again, let's play a little game first!" He laughs and points to a spot a few feet in front of Will, "Mom, kneel or I'll cut some of his pretty little fingers off and feed them to you."

Quinn does as she's told. She has no doubt that he would act upon his threat if she disobeyed.

"Good, now, Dad, we missed you...even if you smell like shit right now!" Monster bends enough to kiss the top of Will's head. He doesn't react. His half-closed eyes are still focused on Quinn. She mouths an '_I love you_' to him. He doesn't react to that either beyond a barely narrowing of his glassy eyes. "Okay. This one is going to be quick cause you both really do reek. Mom, you're going up for a shower first. You'll be easiest to clean and I've got something to do tonight. Don't worry Dad, you'll get one too."

He laughs loudly and both Quinn and Will startle, "Now Dad, this one is on you. I don't think you can take much more despite all the practice you got from Mommy and Daddy. I may have been a bit hard on you early on." He smiles, "You do look so much like my dad though...I just couldn't resist."

Will swallows hard. Teeters slightly forward and then rights himself. Quinn can tell that he's severely dehydrated. She wants to get some water in him while he's awake.

"Okay, Daddy-o. I saw you singing on the news. Cute little clip they used from some concert or something. Sing for me. Mess up or open your mouth to say anything else and she gets a punch. That's it. I didn't bring the strap down tonight unfortunately. My hands were full with the buckets. Maybe if you weren't such a filth ball..." He grunts, closes his eyes, and then ruffles Will's dirty hair.

Will finally breaks eye contact with Quinn. He blinks hard and then turns his face up to look at Monster – confusion clearly written across his face. "Where is Becky?" His voice cracks. It's the first time that he's really spoken in about five days.

Quinn closes her eyes tight as her stomach drops. He wasn't supposed to speak.

Monster laughs. Moves the couple of steps to Quinn and punches her hard in the jaw. Quinn cries out. Monster giggles, "Focus, buddy. I said no talking. Just sing."

"Will, it's okay." Quinn sobs. She tries to sound strong but her face hurts so badly that she can't.

Will swallows hard. He turns his face down and is silent for a long moment. Monster clears his throat obnoxiously, "I haven't got all day! Sing for me, little whore!"

Will's eyes flutter closed and he grimaces. Quinn knows that he won't be able to focus well enough to get through a song unless it's something he knows well. Something meaningful. "Faithfully, Will. Sing Faithfully"

His eyes go up to hers again. She nods slightly. Repeats herself. Tries to reassure him as best she can.

He finally opens his mouth and when he starts, his voice is very quiet but surprisingly melodic and sweet. Quinn keeps eye contact and silently prays for him to finish the song to Monster's liking. "Highway run into the midnight sun. Wheels go round and round, you're on my mind. Restless hearts sleep alone tonight, sending all my love across the wire..."

His eyes flicker closed and Quinn can tell that he's trying to stay focused but failing. He swallows hard and is silent for a long beat before starting again, "They say the road ain't no place to start a family. Right down the line it's been you and me. And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. Oh girl you stand by me. I'm forever yours...faithfully."

He coughs. Swallows hard again and wraps his arms around his middle. Quinn recognizes the gesture. He can't do this. She braces herself for the beating that she's going to take. "They say the road ain't..."

She was right.

His eyes pop open when he realizes his mistake – a look of terror on his face. Monster laughs mockingly and slaps Quinn hard upside the head. She cries out – can't help it. "Keep going." Monster barks.

Will bites his bottom lip hard and scrunches his eyes shut. He nods slightly to a beat inside his head as he tries to remember what part he's supposed to be singing. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he starts again, "Circus life under the big top world. We all need the clowns to make us smile. Through space and time, always another show, wondering where I am, lost without you. And being apart ain't easy on this love affair. Two strangers learn to fall in love again. I get the joy of rediscovering you. Oh, girl, you stand by me. I'm forever yours...faithfully."

His voice cracks slightly on the last word. He's crying silently now. Quinn's eyes well up and spill over at the sight of the tears streaming past his closed eye lids. This song had such happy memories for them and now it's going to be remembered for...this. Monster laughs again. Punches Quinn hard in the left shoulder just because he can. She grunts but doesn't fall so he does it again...and again...until she screams out in agony.

Will's eyes snap open at the sound of Monster's fist connecting with her flesh. "I can finish. You said...I sang...I'll..."

"No talking!" Monster shouts and then pushes Quinn down so that she lands on all fours. Her stomach clenches and she struggles not to vomit. She forces her head up to look at Will. He's biting his lip again – hard, blood is dripping down his chin.

Monster raises his hand again but Will raises his own in a pleading gesture and he stops mid-swing, laughing loudly. Will finishes the song – his voice is strong but his eyes are glassy and terrified. He whispers the last 'faithfully' and then bites his lip hard again to keep himself from saying anything else even though he has absolutely nothing _to_ say.

Monster claps his hands in joy.

And then sucker punches Quinn in the ribs.

She grunts but is able to keep silent otherwise. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"That was really pretty, little whore." Monster reaches out and ruffles Will's hair only to draw back his hand, a look of disgust on his face, "You really are filthy." He backs up until he is beside the buckets, hauls one up, and smiles mockingly, "Best close your eyes."

In one swift movement, he splashes the entire contents of the bucket on to Will.

Quinn raises her head as soon as she hears the splash of the chemical cleaner on the floor. Will is already bent over, his forehead resting on the floor, breathing quick and shallow.

She needs to do something. He's going to pass out. She can't lose him again. "Will, it's okay. Listen to my voice, Will. I need you to breathe. Focus on my voice and breathe. You're okay. You're alright. I love you so much, Will. Breathe...in and out...in and out..."

"That's cute." Monster chuckles mockingly, "Really, fucking cute!" He slams his fist against his hand but Quinn pays him no attention. Her eyes are focused on Will. She continues her chant – watches as his breathing slowly starts to return to normal. "You fucking whore! You're both whores! Why can't you care about me like that, Mom!? Why don't you love me!?"

Quinn can't control herself. She turns her face up to stare into Monster's evil black eyes, "You're a monster. You're a monster and no one could ever love you."

"A monster? A monster?! I'll show you just what kind of monster I can be!" He pulls the gun from his pocket and points it at her. She stares down the barrel and silently prays for him to pull the trigger.

She is, of course, not that lucky.

He moves quickly. Kicks Will hard in the stomach so that his arms give out and he lands prone on the ground. Will grunts and attempts to crawl away – towards Quinn.

Monster's heavy boot on the back of his neck stops his movement.

"Shall I shoot him in the back of the head? The heart? The spine? Where, bitch?!" Monster screams.

Quinn fixes him with a steely gaze and doesn't answer. She wants him to do it. An image of him shooting Will in the back of the head and then turning the gun on her plays through her mind.

She is, of course, not that lucky either.

Monster growls. Removes his boot from the back of Will's neck and pulls the knife from his pocket with his other hand. He drops to the ground and immediately jams the knife into Will's shoulder blade exactly where he knows the carved number one mars his skin – shallow enough not to injure terribly but deep enough to cause agony.

Will screams out like a dying animal. Tries to scramble away to no avail. Gives up and lies still.

"Good, little whore, it'll hurt less if you don't struggle." He chuckles and then smiles at Quinn, "This is your fault! All your fault, Mom!"

He puts the gun down but keeps a grip on the knife that is still sticking out of Will's shoulder. Uses his free hand to work Will's jeans down his hips.

"What are you doing!? Don't!" Quinn screeches. This can't happen.

"He's cleaner now., I'm going to fuck him in front of you Keep your mouth shut and watch it! Watch it or I will slowly peel the flesh from his bones and leave him here to bleed to death. Want to take bets on how long it will take? How much he'll suffer?"

Quinn sobs. Will's head is turned away – she can't see his eyes. She desperately wants to see his eyes.

Monster lowers his zipper. Spits in his hand and prepares himself.

Quinn stares on in horror. She lowers her eyes just once and Will screams out in agony as Monster digs the blade deeper into his shoulder, "I said watch, bitch!"

His beady, black eyes are on her. They're always on her.

It's over quickly. Monster grunts and Will whimpers and then it's over. Quinn would mock him for being so quick but she doesn't want him to beat Will. She wants the asshole to shoot him but he'll just torment him to get to her.

He's going to use Will against her until they both starve to death.

Monster does up his zipper but doesn't bother righting Will's pants. He pulls the knife from his shoulder and chuckles as Will moans in pain. He slides the gun back into his pocket, gets to his feet, makes his way the few feet to the bucket, hauls it up, and then dumps it over Will's splayed form.

Will cries out again as the cleanser seeps into his shoulder. Rolls himself in a ball as well as he can – knees to chest, arms wrapped around legs. Mutters nonsense pathetically under his breath.

Quinn can't take it anymore. "Okay! Enough! I get it! We get it! You have the power. We're nothing. I'm nothing. He's...you can stop. I'll go with you. I'll do anything you want. Leave him alone!" She sobs hard, can't control it. She can feel snot and spit and sweat dripping down her face.

Monster just laughs.

"Let's go upstairs, Mom. I think Dad needs some alone time. He's pretty clean now. That stuff gets the germs off and he's nice and lemony fresh now. It'll do. You though...you smell like shit." He motions towards the stairs with the knife and smiles with fake sweetness.

Quinn spares a last glance at Will. Wipes her face with the back of her hand and slowly, shakily makes it to her feet. She heads slowly up the stairs – Monster close on her heels. Through the basement, up the second set of steps, down the hallway and to the bathroom.

She knows the drill.

Monster watches as she undresses – his beady, black eyes bore into her and it's like bugs under her skin. She wants to disappear. She wants to wash away down the drain – it'll be like she never existed at all.

She steps naked into the tub. Tries to cover herself as well as she can with her arms as she stands under the cold water that is clean but, not refreshing at all. She'll never be clean again.

And Monster's eyes are on her the entire time.

She turns her head and tries to ignore him. Tries to think about Will. She needs to get back to Will. He was awake. She can talk to him. Hug him. Fix him. Love him.

The water beats down on her head. It's slightly soothing...but doesn't last.

She feels Monster standing behind her in the tub. She knows without looking that his clothes are gone. She sucks in a breath and then his hands are everywhere. He soaps her up from head to toe. Slides his hands along her body as she tries to block out the feeling and fails. She wants to vomit but her stomach is empty. She wants to cry but there are no more tears left. The only thing she can do is stand still and let him violate her body.

He shampoos her hair – runs his fingers across her scalp and then rinses it clean. And then he spins her around by the shoulders and pushes her chin up so that she is forced to look into his evil eyes.

He kisses her. Hard. Forces his tongue in her mouth and shoves her back against the wall. She isn't expecting it and the force of it pushes all of the air out of her lungs. She chokes and spurts against his lips. He doesn't care – he continues his assault. Pulls her hair and digs his fingers hard into her hip. And then just as unexpectedly, he pulls away and punches her hard in the stomach. Her knees give out and she collapses to the ground in a heap.

And still his eyes are on her the entire time.

"You filthy, temptress, whore! You want me to fuck you this late in the afternoon!? After I already did Slutbag downstairs?!You know this is my weekend with the..." He trails off. Seems to catch himself saying something that he shouldn't. He kicks her in the ribs but there is little room for him to gain momentum in the tub and so it doesn't hurt as much as it could have. "Get on your knees! I'll give you what you want!"

She's shaking. The water is freezing. She's terrified. Her stomach and face and back hurt terribly. She gets on her knees.

She doesn't want to do this. She chants 'no' over and over and over...

He doesn't care. He grips her hair so tight that she screams out and then he forces himself into her mouth. She chokes and gags and still, he doesn't care. He grips her hair tighter and her head throbs. It feels as though he's ripping her scalp from her skull.

And still she can feel his eyes on her.

It feels like an eternity but can't be more than thirty to forty seconds before the awful taste hits the back of her throat and he pulls away from her. She gags and manages to vomit up a few mouth fulls of bile and fluid.

She wants to die. She wants to kill him and then she wants to die.

And still she can feel his eyes on her.

A moment passes where she simply lays on the ground of the tub – the cold water beating down on her. It doesn't last. He reaches down and pulls her up by her hair. Reaches around her and turns off the water and then forces her out of the tub. Down the hallway. Down the first set of stairs and to the door that leads down to Will.

Naked and cold and dripping wet.

And still his eyes are on her.

"Have a nice weekend off, Mom. I have things to do." And then he opens the door and pushes her through. Follows her down and pushes her on to the wet floor next to Will. The chemical cleanser is freezing against her bare skin. The concrete scrapes her thigh as she adjusts her legs and it burns terribly.

Will hasn't moved except to pull up his pants – he's still laying in a ball on the ground and Quinn expects him to be passed out or out of it or dead but his green eyes raise up slowly and meet hers.

Green eyes. Not black.

She covers her face with her hands. Sobs hard and curls in on herself next to him. Tries to pull her body as close to his as possible even though she's naked and they've both just been raped.

Monster laughs and then turns without another word and heads back upstairs leaving them alone.

The TV is still playing in the background. She wants terribly to turn it off – her head is pounding. She knows Will's must be too.

She cries quietly for a long, long time. Will doesn't move. Quinn is freezing and knows he must be too. She sniffles and tries to calm herself down. She can pull it together for him. She turns her head enough to see his face. His eyes slowly raise to meet hers again. "Will, I...we need to get up now."

He startles. Blinks his eyes a few times and then drops them.

Maybe if she gets up, he will too. She struggles to her feet while his eyes are down. She doesn't want him to see her like this – fat and dirty and used and disgusting. She shakily makes it the few feet to the wardrobe and pulls a musty dress over her head. She slides on his beat up leather jacket and then wobbles back to where he is laying and kneels beside him. "Will, you need...get up and drink some water."

He doesn't move.

She can feel anger and desperation starting to well up in the pit of her stomach. She shakes his shoulder hard. "Will, you need to get up! I can't...I can't do this on my own anymore. Please." She's crying again, "Please!"

His eyes go back up to her face. His face is blank – completely devoid of emotion. He swallows hard. His voice is horribly scratchy. "Where is Becky?"

_Oh, God. _"She's...Will, she's...she's over by the sink. You...you have to get up to see her. And you...she's hiding until you drink some water. She's mad at you because...you haven't drank any water."

It sounds so stupid. She's a liar. She's a bitch. She'll rot in rot. She'll...

He starts to struggle to his knees. Cries out and scrunches his eyes shut in agony as the torn flesh on his shoulder stretches with his movements.

She helps him make it to his knees and then his feet and then to the bathroom where she sits him on the closed toilet seat. She fills cup after cup of water and forces him to drink it. "Becky won't come out unless you drink them all."

She hates herself.

She must get more than a gallon of water into him before he puts his hand on his stomach and shakes his head 'no'. She wants to force more into him but she doesn't. His eyes already look slightly less cloudy.

They're silent for a long moment.

Will speaks first, "Becky is dead." Quinn nods but doesn't speak. She watches his bowed head silently. Neither of them move for a long while before Will breaks the silence again. His voice just a whisper – no emotion present "He raped you."

She sobs only once.

_Yes. _

She can't tell him, "No. No...he, um...he just gave me a shower again. Like last time. He didn't...he didn't touch me." If he looked up, he'd see the proof of her lie written all over the fear and loathing etched onto the features of her bruised face.

He doesn't. He simply nods and then struggles to his feet. He vaguely motions towards the toilet and though she doesn't want to, she limps to the couch and gives him some privacy.

He gingerly sits next to her a little while later. A cup of water in his hand that he sips from occasionally. He reeks of lemon cleaner. His clothes are wet and ripped and stained with his and Becky's blood.

"We...I don't know how long we can..." She trails off. She doesn't know if he has the same thoughts that she does. Doesn't know if he wants to die too.

He sniffles. Sips his water. Wrinkles his nose. When he speaks, his voice is very low. "I have no idea if you're real."

It's a smack in the face. "What? Of course I'm real."

"Are they?" He gestures across the room and she turns to stare.

"No one is there, Will."

A moment passes, "Then you're not there either." He puts the cup on the ground. Twists his body around so that he's laying on the couch, knees to chest, effectively shutting her out. She watches his face for a moment – his slowly blinking eyes, his tight mouth – before she stands and rushes to the other side of the room. She flings herself down on the bed they used to share – the bed where they talked and kissed and slept – and buries her face in the pillow.

At least he's awake again. He may be confused – whether from the dehydration or the head injury – or he may be crazy but, at least he's awake. Things could get better. He could forget his delusions and remember her and everything they've shared. He could hold her and talk to her and love her again. They could die together happy instead of...this.

She doubts any of that will happen.

They're going to die...but there will be nothing happy about it.

Will is going to die first. He'll starve or Monster will murder him or he'll succumb to his head injuries and she'll be left alone with his corpse. She's always alone.

She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around her middle. Tries to sleep to no avail. She closes her eyes and sees nothing but Monster's black eyes as he violates her...

His eyes are always on her.


	44. Chapter 44

This thing is 17 pages long...just so that you're all aware. Enjoy your long read! :o

I expected to get a few reviews or messages telling me I was demented for the contents of the last chapter. I originally planned something much worse (if you can imagine) but shied away from it.

Nothing inappropriate in this one. :p

Two chapters left!

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Sue calls out of work to take care of Will on Friday.

She's been employed at McKinley for nearly a decade, as a teacher for nearly two, and in all that time, she has never missed a day of work – not until this year. Not until she took it upon herself to care for a recovering William Schuester.

She doesn't mind much.

Her life has changed so drastically in a little more than a month. She is working less, caring more, admitting (at least to herself) that she has feelings...it's both a welcome and an unnerving transition from her normally bitter, jaded attitude. She is not alone anymore. It's not just Jean who relies on her. She has people who need her. She has Quinn. She has Will.

She doesn't want to let them down. She doesn't want to let _him_ down.

Some how she has adopted a thirty-year-old child without meaning to.

She has a figurative son. Her mother would be _so_ proud. The bitch.

Will wakes up after Santana and the boys leave and is up most of the night vomiting. Sue tries to get him to drink some Gatorade but he rushes to the bathroom to throw it up only a few minutes later. She settles for covering his shivering form with blankets and placing cool, damp face towels across his hot forehead. They watch Singin' in the Rain together around midnight because he asks her to and she can't say 'no' when he looks that miserable even though the thought of watching that movie again makes her want to punch an orphan.

He finally falls back to sleep around two and she nods off as well. When he wakes up later in the morning, his fever is still present but down, his color is better, and he's no longer puking. She would make him soup but the last time she offered it, he reacted very poorly. It's a trigger for him and she doesn't want to bring it up. Instead, she gives him dry toast and apple juice and then makes him take a warm bath. She changes his sheets and Lysol's his mattress. When he emerges from the bathroom a long time later in fresh pajamas, he thanks her and then takes a long nap.

Sue naps too.

It's around one in the afternoon when they both wake up again. Will says that he is feeling a bit better and so Sue tells him about Santana's idea for a movie night. His brows furrow but he agrees with a slight nod, she thinks, mostly to appease her because she's been taking care of him and he thinks that's what she wants to hear.

It doesn't matter why he's agreed really. She thinks this will be good for him. An evening surrounded by the students he loved so much, who loved him so much, will be good for him.

An evening with Quinn will be good for him.

She calls Quinn and let's her know to come over around six as Will lays silently on the coach watching ESPN. The call is short and when it's finished, she busies herself disinfecting the bathroom. It doesn't take long but when she reenters the living room, his face is pressed against the coach cushions and he is once again sound asleep. She lets him nap for a little while before she wakes him up and gives him some water and fever reducer.

She sits on the coach and absently rubs the back of his hot neck – careful not to run her hand along his shoulder. Along the carving she knows is hidden below his sweatshirt. He leans into her touch slightly and after several minutes clears his throat quietly, "I...thank you for not..." He trails off before starting again a minute or so later, "I mean...thank you for staying with me. You didn't have to."

"Of course I didn't, William." She contains her smile and continues rubbing his neck in what she supposes is a soothing gesture.

The clock reads 4:54 – nearly thirty minutes later, before he speaks again. "Sue?"

"Yeah, buddy?" Her hand has stopped rubbing but her arm remains on the back of the couch - her fingertips pressed against his upper back. Her voice is neutral even though she's glad he's speaking. He hardly ever initiates a conversation.

He sniffles and takes a sip of the Gatorade bottle that she gave him many hours before. "um. I don't understand why you would...I mean...I...you hate me."

She isn't sure how to respond to that. She turns her head and looks at him looking at her. His brows knit together, his eyes surprisingly focused. She should tell him that she doesn't. She should tell him that she is proud of him for everything that he has overcome. She should tell him that she worries about him constantly. She should tell him that she loves him like a son or a little brother. She should tell him that she hopes he looks at her like a big sister or the mom he should have had...or at least a mom that would have been better than his own.

She should say a lot of things.

She drops her eyes and sighs. She can't. It's too much emotion for her and the words won't leave her tongue. She neither confirms nor denies what he has said but he nods slightly a moment later and turns his head to stare at the far wall, away from her.

She feels like shit because of it.

They have time though. She may not be able to say the words out loud now but she'll show him just how much she cares for him. She isn't going to let him feel alone or hurt or lost anymore – not if she can help it.

Time moves slowly after that. At 5:20 she calls and orders pizza for everyone. Will pads off to his room and comes back a few minutes later wearing jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. His face is flushed and Sue wonders if maybe they should have postponed this for a couple of days.

Too late now.

She gives him more fever reducer. More Gatorade. He sits on the coach and tries to stay awake.

Tries and fails. He's asleep again by the time Finn knocks on the door at 5:50.

* … * … * … * … * … *

"Tell me about your relationship with Will."

Quinn stares hard at the shrink sitting across from her. She crosses her legs and folds her arms across her chest. She's already answered enough of this woman's questions today – about her dad, about her mom, about her daughter. She should be able to keep some things to herself."Why?"

"Well, he seems to be the cause of most of your emotional turmoil these days."

"No. He's the cure. That monster who kidnapped us is the cause of _all_ of my emotional turmoil." _Dumb bitch._

"He's dead. He can't hurt you anymore - you do realize that, yet you're still getting hurt." The woman stares over her glasses at Quinn. Quinn wants to punch them off her face.

She smirks, "Did you hear _how_ he died? It was beautiful."

"I read the report. I'm not sure I would classify it as beautiful."

"Oh, no, no. It was. Trust me. What happened to him...it was a sight to behold. I'm glad he suffered."

"Will made him suffer." It's not a question. This woman is acting like she knows what they went through. She has no idea. No one does...only Will...only herself.

"Monster made Will suffer! He's still suffering! But he's getting better...he's..."

"Is he? He wouldn't answer your calls. He wouldn't talk to you."

"He couldn't. Monster made him that way." Quinn can feel her rage boiling up. She can't let it erupt though. Her mom promised that she could go to Will's later with Finn and Kurt as long as she made it through her therapy session first.

She'll make it through. Even if she wants to throat punch the old hag sitting across from her.

"I'm not judging, Quinn. I'd just like to hear about your relationship."

"You can't tell anyone. I'm over the legal age of consent." She'll tell her. She wants her to understand just how special Will is. She wants everyone to understand.

"No. No I can't...not unless I think you or someone else is in some sort of physical danger." She pauses and pushes up her glasses. Her voice has been emotionless this entire time and remains so, "You slept with him."

Quinn laughs. It's ludicrous. "No. He would never. Not in that place and not unless I was completely ready. He's very much a gentlemen. We never even made it to second base."

The therapist just nods.

Quinn is silent for a beat before continuing, "We kissed. A lot. I initiated that part of our relationship completely. Things are different when you are locked up twenty-four-seven with someone. I got to know him so well that I know him as well as I know myself. I love him. I love him completely – flaws and all. And when he's better – when I'm better – we're going to get married."

"Does he know about this? Does he love you back?"

Quinn's smile falters, "I don't know. I...I think so. He's never said so though."

"Maybe you should figure out the answer to that before you start planning the wedding."

Quinn stares angrily at the woman and then turns her head away. Refuses to respond.

"Our time is up. I'd like you to go home and think about this though, Quinn. You shouldn't completely tie your life to someone. Ever. Even if you love him so much that it feels as though you'll die without him – your life has a lot of value all on its own. You need to start realizing that. You don't need your mother, father, daughter, sister, friends, or a boyfriend to be worth something. You are all on your own."

Quinn takes in the words and nods but mostly she's just glad that she's done for the day and can get ready to see Will.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Rachel spots Finn in the hall between forth and fifth period. She had been trying to find him the entire day but once again, it seems he's avoiding her.

Her eyes tear up at the sight of him but she fights back the tears. It's not the time. She calls his name and rushes to his side as he stops and turns to look at her. "Rachel, hey, I'm uh...I'm a little late for class."

"You've been avoiding me. You don't answer my calls, you don't call me back, and we haven't eaten lunch together in weeks!"

"Yeah, uh, I've been eating in the choir room with a few of the guys from Glee." He nervously rubs at the back of his neck and looks for an escape route. He doesn't want to talk to her right now.

"No. Not a few of them - Mike, Mercedes, Tina, Artie, Kurt, and Puck. Everyone except me basically. Do you know how much that hurts my feelings?" She crosses her arms and stares up at his face.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I have to...I have to go to class. Can we talk about this later?" He starts to walk backwards, away from her, but she reaches out and grabs a hold of his forearm, keeping him in place.

"Tonight? It's Friday night and I'm not doing anything. We could get some coffee and talk."

He frowns at her hopeful tone. If he didn't have plans, maybe he would say 'yes' but he does and he isn't willing to break them, "I can't tonight."

"Why?" Her fingers dig into his arm slightly. She doesn't want to let go.

"I'm...I'm going to Will's house. We're having a, uh, a thing. A movie night. He's had the flu so I don't want to disappoint him or anything." The hallway is thinning out. He's going to be late.

"But it's okay to disappoint me again and again, right?" She huffs and drops his arm, "Look, I'm trying here and you're obviously unwilling to do that. I'm going to call you tonight and I'd really like it if you'd answer."

"Sure, whatever, Rach." He pulls his arm free as gently as possible and runs to class. Rachel watches him go and the turns and trudges to the guidance office. It's her free period and she needs someone to talk to.

Unfortunately, since she has no friends these days, Mrs. Pillsbury will have to suffice.

She taps on the door and then slowly enters as soon as the counselor waves her into the room. She slumps into an empty seat and drops her backpack to the ground between her feet. "Finn is still avoiding me. I tried hanging out with Quinn and it got me no where. She doesn't want to talk to me really. Finn never wants to talk to me. I don't know what to do."

"Rachel, we've talked about this before. Maybe if you just give him a little time..."

"A little time!?" Rachel interrupts, incredulous, "It's the middle of November! I've given enough time!"

Emma sanitizes her hands and then drops then to her desk, "Quinn and Wi...Mr. Schuester have only been back for about a month and a half. You can't expect things to return to normal right away."

"Yes, yes, I understand that Quinn and Mr. Schue need time to heal but Finn, it's...it's different. He shouldn't be pushing me away. I haven't done anything wrong." She folds her arms and hugs herself tightly.

"Well, people deal with stress and grief in different ways, Rachel." Emma sighs and rubs on more sanitizer. "I think maybe you should give him a little time to figure things out on his own."

"Is that what you're doing with Mr. Schue?" Rachel sits up a little straighter and glares forward.

"What? I, uh, well, that's a little inappropriate and I, uh, I...no, not exactly. It's a different...it's different...they're two different situations." Emma stutters on her answer. Methodically rubs her hands together.

"No, not really. I made a mistake. I heard about how you slapped Mr. Schue at the hospital. You made a mistake too. Don't you want to make things right?"

"I, uh, I guess. Wi...Mr. Schuester needs some time to recuperate though. He and Quinn went through a trauma and..."

"Well, how do you know that you aren't the exact thing that will make him better? Maybe he needs you but is afraid to ask. Maybe the same is true of Finn too. They just need a push to realize what it is that they actually need." Rachel sparked an idea in her own head. Finn is mad at her because she made a mistake with Mr. Schuester. If she makes it up to their Glee coach, Finn will forgive her. They can go back to being a happy couple again.

"Uh, I, this really is um, is inappropriate." Emma fidgets nervously with her bottle of hand sanitizer.

"No, it's not. I have the perfect idea." Rachel displays her best show smile to the nervous counselor and then continues, "Finn mentioned that Mr. Schue has the flu. We're going to help him get over it. If Finn sees that we're helping Mr. Schue, he'll forgive me and if you help Mr. Schue, he'll forgive you. It's perfect!"

"And how do you, uh, how do you plan on helping him get over it?" The idea of flu germs makes Emma terribly nervous.

"Oh, when the opportunity presents itself, I'll know exactly what to do." She smiles slyly and then stands, "Don't worry, I'll keep you in the loop too!"

And then she's out of the office and down the hall and ready to finish her day with at least a slight bit of confidence.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Quinn changes her clothes about a dozen times before she settles on what she deems to be an acceptable outfit. Jeans and a sweatshirt. She wants to dress up for Will but that thought of wearing a dress – of having everyone's eyes on her – makes her uneasy. She does brush her hair and put on lip gloss though

She isn't sure that she's ready to visit his apartment yet. She's been there twice – once to tell his wife that she could have her baby and once just before they lost to Vocal Adrenaline. Her visits are a prelude to something bad happening to him.

She hopes that this one doesn't turn out that way.

She's staring at her reflection in the mirror by her desk when there is a timid knock on her partially opened door, "Hey, uh, your mom let me up. I, uh, I hope you don't mind. She told me you weren't like, undressed or anything." He scratches at the back of his neck and then shoves his hands deep into his pockets and hunches slightly.

Quinn can't help but to smile at him. "Hey, Finn. It's okay. I just finished getting ready to go."

"Okay. Yeah, cool." He pivots slowly around her room, taking in her knick-knacks and pictures, "You know I was, uh, when we were dating, uh, I mean, I never came up here. Your parents wouldn't let me, remember?"

"Of course I remember, Finn." She reaches out and squeezes his forearm and he smiles sweetly at her in return. "A lot of things have changed though. If you ever wanted to come over just to watch movies or something, you could. My mom wouldn't mind. I really do miss being your friend."

He hesitates a moment but then pulls her against him in a gentle hug. It's sweet but strong...just like Will's hugs had been before...

She squeezes him tightly and buries her face in his chest and for a second or two feels...safe.

He eventually pulls away and shyly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She smiles and drops her face to look at the floor. It's a little too much emotion right now. She clears her throat and tries to change the subject, "So Rachel has been scoping out information about you. She was over here a few days ago and she was asking about what you were up to with Will."

He shoves his hands back into his pockets, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"No, no. I don't mind. Shockingly, I like Rachel and I really don't mind her coming over but what's going on with you guys? Did you break up with her? Because she doesn't seem to know if you have."

"We didn't break up, no. I just...I...every time I look at her I get angry. I can't even explain why. I just...I don't even know. It's like, every time I see her face I just remember every thing she ever did that made me angry or upset. It's weird, I guess."

"No, it's not, Finn. You can't keep stringing her along though. It isn't nice. If you don't want to be her boyfriend anymore, you need to tell her." She sits at the edge of the bed and pulls on her shoes. Looks up at him as he seems to war with himself.

"I um, I really do love her, you know? I just...I think maybe we should take a break or whatever. Just, you know, so I can clear my head and stuff. She's um, she's going to call tonight so I guess I'll just break it to her then."

Quinn nods sadly, "Don't make it a long break. She really does love you."

Finn ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck again, "Ready to go?"

"Yup." She pops the 'p' at the end of the word and then follows Finn out of her room and down to his car.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Kurt meets Finn and Quinn in the parking garage of Will's building. It's a short walk up to number 203 and they make it together in silence. Kurt wants to question Quinn about her reconciliation with Santana but he'll wait. Today is meant to be pleasant. He doesn't want to bring up anything negative.

Tomorrow, on the other hand...

They are nearly ten minutes early but Sue quickly answers the door after they've knocked, as if she had been standing nearby waiting. She doesn't waste a moment before speaking, "Quinn, if you feel overwhelmed at all, I want you to pull me aside and tell me. There is no need to rush into things." She turns her attention to the boys, "He's still sick so if we have to cut it short today, I don't want to hear any crap about it. You'll get to come back so don't think that this is the last time your little club will get one of these reunions. Got it?"

They all nod in agreement and Quinn smiles tightly as they shed their coats and head into the living room. Will is awake now and he turns his eyes to regard each of them as they enter the room. Finn takes his usual spot on the coach directly next to him and squeezes his knee lightly, "Feeling any better?"

Will nods slightly and clears his throat, "It was...uh...just a...24-hour thing, I think."

His tired eyes and flushed face say differently.

Kurt sits on the other side of the coach and flips the channel off of ESPN and on to the E! Network. Finn grumbles but glues his eyes to the exploits of the Kardashian family anyway.

Quinn hovers in the doorway a long moment before moving into the room and hesitantly taking a seat on the chair next to the coach. Will's attention immediately lands and stays on her. She ducks her head slightly and smiles at him, "Hey."

"Hi, Quinn." His voice is low but there is a slight smile on his face and she isn't sure what it means but the butterflies in the pit of her stomach start to flutter quietly.

"Are you...how are feeling?" She stutters, realizing how stupid her question must sound since Finn literally just asked the same thing. She feels her face heat up in embarrassment. Will just smiles wider at her and then rests his head back.

She stares at his profile – it's the first time that she's really been able to just look at him (at least in the light) since...since they left the basement. His cheeks are less hollow now, less gaunt. He's slowly putting back on the weight he lost and she sighs quietly in relief. Even with the flu and the military style haircut, he looks a million times better than he did during their last few days together in captivity.

She imagines that she must look better too and wonders silently if he agrees.

She eases herself back in the seat and watches TV with the boys.

Sue watches the group silently from the doorway. Will is resting his head but every once in a while his eyes flick towards Quinn. He's watching her. Sue smiles slightly and then turns to answers the knock at the door. Santana and Puck move immediately into the entryway and Sue repeats the speech she gave the other three earlier and then takes their coats. She feels slightly like a butler...answering doors and taking coats. Providing dinner and pouring drinks. There are very few people in the world that she would wait on like a servant.

She'll do it for Schuester.

She'll do it for Quinn.

Puck sits in the last empty seat, "The Kardashians? Hummel, shut this shit off. I can feel the gay seeping into me."

"No! I have to see what happens with Scott and..." Finn freezes. Sits up straighter and clears his throat, "Uh, I mean, just...I was kidding. We should...we should watch wrestling. Or Shark Week. Or...uh...not this."

Puck stares at him with disgust, "Dude."

Santana leans against the wall, not quite joining the group but not quite separating herself either, "You've been hanging around Lady Hummel too much, Porkpie."

"I wasn't watching it! I was...I'm going to shut up now." He hides his face in his hand and leans back against the cushions. Six sets of eyes stare at him.

Kurt shuts off the TV and crosses his legs, "Anyway. Now that we're all here, what movie are we watching at this little soiree?"

"Santana, this was kind of your idea. Do you...do you want to choose?" Quinn asks quietly. She wants to make an effort even if it's a struggle to do so. She wants to be normal again.

Santana narrows her eyes slightly and takes a few seconds to respond, "No, I'm good. Someone else can choose."

Kurt stands to browse through Will's DVD collection (which had recently grown to incorporate more than a few selections from Sue's collection). Puck and Finn stand as well, "There is no way I'm watching something that doesn't have boobs or guns. Preferably both."

"You are such a pig, Puckerman." Kurt sneers but moves slightly to allow for Puck and Finn to also browse the movies titles.

"Do you want to sit?" Quinn looks back to Santana and tries her best to plaster a normal looking smile on her face.

Judging by her raised eyebrows, Santana doesn't buy the fake smile but she moves towards Quinn anyway, "Scoot over. We'll share."

There is just enough room for them to share. Their shoulders pressed against one another.

"Hey, Mr. Data. You look like crap."

Will opens his eyes slowly and regards the two girls on the chair next to him, "Thanks, Santana."

"Oh, sarcasm!" Santana smirks. Reaches forward and pats his knee. "You're getting there, Pinocchio!"

"That's rude, Santana." Finn bites, turning his head to glares at her, "Stop calling him a robot and a puppet. He's a person and you're a bitch."

"Shut it, Frankenteen."

"No. I'm sick of you trying to..."

Will raises his hands, silencing Finn, and looks between them, "Guys, I...I really appreciate you coming and I, uh, I'd...um...I'd really like you all to stay but you can't...you can't argue or...I mean, this should be a good day and you'll..."

"No fighting." Quinn interrupts, "This is supposed to be a good day. We're all going to get along and watch a movie and eat junk and then maybe we can get the rest of the club involved too. We really should have our entire 'family' back together again."

Finn drops his head and shoves his hands into his pocket. His voice is low when he speaks, "Sorry. I, uh, I'll stop."

Santana says nothing but she links her arm through Quinn's, sits back, and crosses her legs.

Quinn turns her eyes towards Will and finds him staring at her. He mouths a 'thank you' and she nods and smiles.

Her butterflies start to flutter harder.

Kurt chooses 10 Things I Hate About You (which he had secretly brought from home and slipped onto the shelf when Puck and Finn were looking away) mostly to piss off Puck.

It works.

Puck grumbles under his breath but mostly heeds the 'no fighting' rule set up by Quinn. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her – even if it means he'll have to sit through a chick flick.

Sue carries in a twelve-pack of Coke and the pizzas as soon as they arrive and sets them down on the coffee table. She makes room on the couch for herself, in between Will and Finn, because there is no way in hell that she's going to watch this stupid movie while sitting on the floor.

Finn hits play on the remote and for a while it's rather pleasant. The pizza is enjoyable, the movie isn't terrible, and everyone manages to keep any snarky comments at bay. Will doesn't eat any pizza but he does sip from the can of Coke that Sue hands to him. Quinn tries to stay focused on the movie but something is weighing of her mind – some feeling or memory that she can't shake but can't quite remember.

And then it hits her.

One of their first interactions with Monster was pizza and a movie. Sitting awkwardly around the TV, eating pizza, and drinking room-temperature Coke with Monster and his piercing black eyes.

She gasps quietly – can't help it – and drops her pizza slice on the ground. Santana squeezes her arm, "Are you alright, Q?"

"Yeah, I...I...I'm just going to get a towel." She spits out her words quickly and then rushes from the room. As soon as she's in the kitchen, she leans heavily against the counter, closes her eyes, and tries to control her breathing.

"Quinn?"

Her eyes pop open and she gasps again as she comes face-to-face with Will. "I...I didn't hear you come in."

He ducks his head slightly in order to make eye contact with her, "Are you okay?"

"I...yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just...I..."

"You need to calm down."

She laughs bitterly at that but places her hand against her chest and tries to control her breathing.

"What's...what happened?" His voice is very quiet. He doesn't want the others to hear – to know – about her issues.

She can't answer. Everything was fine. Santana was being friendly. Finn was being so kind. Kurt was being himself. Puck wasn't staring at her as if she was going to break. She ruined everything. She fucked everything up. They would never get another chance. She would never get...

His voice cuts off her thoughts. He has taken a few small steps forward without her realizing, "It's smells. Or sounds. Or sometimes nothing at all. That's what does it for me. That's...uh...that's what makes the memories come back."

She stares at him with wide eyes. He takes another small step forward. If she reached her arm out, she would be able to touch his chest.

"And sometimes...and sometimes I can't push them away. It feels like..." He stops. Places his hand on his own chest and breathes deeply, "It feels like I'm drowning. I used to make myself zone out. Not like before...not like...I mean...I don't see them anymore usually. Not like before. I just...it's easier not to feel."

He doesn't see the imaginary people from the basement anymore. He doesn't hear the voices. She's glad. She was worried about that. He takes another step forward. She stands up straighter.

"And...it's easier...not to talk. And...it's easier not to, not to let anyone in. To be by myself." He takes another step and is now directly in front of her. She can smell his shampoo – can feel his body heat. "It's also lonely. Lonely and scary."

"It was the movie...and the pizza." She whispers and then turns her face up to look at him. She's expecting to see disappointment but his face is full of concern and kindness. She hesitates but then throws her arms around his neck and buries her face in his chest. "I...I see his eyes. Everywhere. Everyone stares at me and it's just like he..."

He squeezes her tightly to his body and places a light kiss on the top of her head, "Things are...it's getting better, right?"

"This is better. I...I need you, Will. I've needed you so much and you..."

"I'm sorry." His hand moves to her hair and he strokes it slowly. His other hand moves to her waist and he returns her hug. "I...it might not seem that way...I am trying though."

"I know. We can try together. I can move in here with you. My mother won't mind. She'll..."

"No...no, we...no, Quinn."

She drops her arms and steps back to look up at him, "Why not? I need you, Will. I know you need me too. I..."

He raises his hand and cuts her off, "You're seventeen and maybe...it...we shouldn't have..." He rubs his eyes and then drops his hands, "I don't regret it but...I...you're seventeen and you need to...we both need to work on some things. Maybe one day..."

She wants to argue. She wants to scream at him. She wants to cry.

...but it wasn't a 'no'.

The look on her face must worry him because he continues, his voice scratchy with his sickness, "After you've graduated and, uh, after I...after we both work on...work on what we have to work on, we...after that we could try to...try to work on this," he gestures between them with a slight wave of his hand and she reaches up and grabs it with her own.

"Graduation isn't that far off and I'm still seeing the shrink." She smiles shyly and drops their joined hands down between them.

"I'll...I could start doing the...I mean, I could try to do the...they wanted me to see a neuropsychologist and physical therapist...I think."

"Why didn't you see them before now?" She squeezes his hand and looks up at him.

"I...I took the drugs they gave me. I just...I can't go back to the hospital. They...I don't...they look at me like..."

"Like there is something wrong with you? Like you're dangerous or fragile or dirty? I get that too. I hate it. I think if we're going to work on this..." She repeats his earlier hand gesture with her free hand, "...we should definitely get the hell out of this town. We should start over some where that no one knows us."

He nods. Opens his mouth to speak but quickly snaps it shut again. Shuts his eyes tightly and reaches his hands out to steady himself using Quinn's shoulders, "I'm sorry. I just...I'm a little dizzy."

She grips his wrists and waits for him to open his eyes again before she speaks, "Why don't we finish the movie with the others and then you can head to bed? I know Finn would be on the top of the world if we all made it through this day. I bet everyone else would be too."

He nods slowly and follows her into the other room. Sue looks at them worriedly as they pass by, "Everything alright?"

Will nods. Quinn smiles.

Sue stares after them as they sit. She has to work to keep the smirk off of her face. This is working out better than she had hoped.

The pizza and soda are long gone by the time the movie is over but no one is quite ready to go home yet. Kurt suggests a game of cards and everyone winds up sitting around the dining room table as he deals out a round of Rummy.

They play in silence for a moment before Santana opens her mouth, "I'm sorry. This is weird. Anyone else think this is weird?"

"What in particular are you referring to, Santana?" Kurt asks with trepidation. Really, he doesn't think that he wants to know.

"Well, did you ever in your life think that you'd be playing cards with Sue Sylvester, Quinn Fabray, and myself? Or Puckerman? Or Frankenteen? I mean...we aren't exactly from the same circles."

"Why am I the only one who gets one of your stupid nicknames?" Finn asks irritably as he tosses a card onto the growing pile.

"I'm sorry I don't run in 'circle bitch', Santana." Kurt rolls his eyes, "I do consider all of you...well, some of you anyway, my friends."

"I consider all of you my friends." Quinn adds quietly. "I know we haven't always gotten along, but I'd really like this to be a new start for us. The new 'New Directions'. I think we should invite Mercedes and Tina next time. And then Artie, Mike, and Rachel. I think it would be good for all of us."

"I...I could be good with that." Finn says hopefully. His eyes dart towards Will's bowed head.

"Yeah, I guess I could lower my standards a bit and hang out with you lo..."

"If we're doing this, Santana, you're going to knock off this shit with the insults." Finn snaps.

"Yeah, well, that's just who I am. If you don't want me here then I'll leave." She moves to stand.

Will's quiet voice stops her, "No, it's...she stays. You all stay. I...this is a good idea. I missed you guys."

"This is all very touching." Sue deadpans despite the fact that she actually means what she is saying.

Will's lips upturn slightly and she huffs in mock annoyance.

"You know, as much as I love staring at the finely decorated walls of this apartment day-after-day, Sing-a-Long Sound of Music is showing tomorrow at three and I have it on good authority that there are a number of tickets left." Kurt suggests.

"Of course there are. No one wants to go to that. No one who isn't gay." Puck shakes his head in disbelief. Santana bites her cheek and nods in agreement.

"I would like to see that," Quinn smiles warmly and tucks her hair behind her ear, "I think my mom will say 'yes' since it's a weekend."

"Well, if everyone else is going..." Santana trails off. Her attention moves to Will. Slowly, everyone else moves their attention towards him as well.

After a slightly prolonged silence, he looks up from his cards and his eyes drift around the table, "I...uh..."

"Kids, maybe tomorrow is a bit too soon for a field trip." Sue says carefully. She doesn't think he's ready to leave the apartment again yet – to be around other people yet.

"No...it's...maybe a movie instead? Could we..." He trails off. Drops his eyes again. He doesn't want to disappoint them. At least at a movie, he can sit in the dark. Blend in.

Finn perks up. It wasn't a 'no'. "Due Date is in theaters. Robert Downey Jr. is always good."

"Yeah. I could do that. At least there aren't any twirling nuns." Puck drops his cards on the table. The game has long since been forgotten.

Will nods and everyone else speaks their agreement – Sue included. She wants to be there in case he has a bad reaction to being in public again.

"I'm...I'm sorry but if we're..." Will starts and then trails off. Starts again a moment later – his voice surprisingly strong, "I'm not feeling well still and I want to get some sleep if we're going out tomorrow. So...I'm...I'm just going to head to bed." He stands and looks at each of them in turn, "I...it'll be fun. Tomorrow, I mean. Thank you all for coming tonight. I...it was fun too." He opens his mouth to speak again but shuts it again quickly. Turns and walks towards his bedroom, pausing only to squeeze Finn's shoulder as he walks by him.

Finn beams in response.

He closes his door behind him as he enters the room. Changes into pajamas and lays on his bed. He feels weird going to sleep with so many people in the other room but he just can't stay awake any longer. His head is throbbing and his stomach is turning somersaults.

Stupid flu.

Stupid Monster.

Stupid Will Schuester.

He should have filled his prescriptions last week. He's been out of his pain medication for a few days now. It's his fault his head is pounding so hard right now.

Sleep will help.

He's just nodding off when the door creaks open loudly. He opens his eyes just as Quinn is shutting the door behind herself. She turns and smiles sweetly at him, "Coach is walking everyone else out. I think she really just wanted to give me some time to say good-night."

"Oh. uh...good-night." He tilts his head enough to see her clearly but doesn't sit up. He's actually found a comfortable position and he doesn't want to lose it.

She doesn't mind. She sits near his bent knees and lays her hand on his arm, "You're really hot."

"Yeah...I, uh, I feel better than I did yesterday though." He isn't sure what she wants but he doesn't mind her being here.

Sue might. Her mother might. He doesn't.

He probably should.

"Good." She runs her finger along his arm absently, "I'm looking forward to tomorrow. Even if we can only be friends until after I graduate, I...I'm happy that I'll get to see you."

He makes eye contact and smiles sadly. His voice is very quiet. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." She sniffles but stops herself from crying, "I love you and I just wanted you to know that I'll wait for you. For as long as it takes, I'll wait for you."

She leans forward and he doesn't stop her even though he knows what is coming and he knows that he definitely should.

She brushes her lips against his – the tiniest bit of pressure – and then pulls away. She pulls his blanket more tightly around his body and then leans down once more. Connects their lips again. He kisses her back this time – as innocently as possible, and for once isn't thinking about Monster or the basement or his parents or Emma or figments of his imagination calling him hateful names. There is only Quinn and her sweet smile and kind eyes.

It only lasts a moment before she pulls away again. She looks him directly in the eyes and cups his face with her hands, "I will wait for you."

"Graduation and the therapist and...and then if you still want to, we'll try." He wants to smile, to be reassuring, but the muscles in his face refuse to cooperate. He's too run down right now. Too tired.

She hugs him tightly and kisses his forehead, "Coach Sue is going to walk me down to Finn's car and I don't want to keep her waiting. I'll see you tomorrow?"

He smiles and nods and then watches her leave.

He falls into a dreamless sleep only a few minutes later.

In the other room, some time later, Sue smiles as she thinks over the days events. She doesn't even mind cleaning up the mess everyone else has made.

* … * … * … * … * … *

Finn looks at the phone as soon as he makes it into his house. Rachel has called nine times.

He sighs. He's in a relatively good mood. Will is getting better – even though he has the flu - Finn can sense it. Quinn is getting better too. He had dropped her off at her door and she had smiled and hugged him good-night before he left her porch.

He missed her smile. He missed her hugs.

Everything is starting to return to normal again. It'll take time but tonight was definitely a start of something good.

The phone rings in his hand just as he's about to replace it on the receiver. He looks down and reads Rachel's name. Debates hanging it up but after a brief war with himself, answers and puts it to his ear.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Finn, we were supposed to talk tonight. Did you forget? It's late." Her voice is slightly angry but he can tell that she's been crying – that she's sad. It makes him sad too.

"No, I, uh, I didn't forget. I just...I got busy and stuff. It's...I'm totally here now though if you'd like to talk."

She's silent for a long moment before speaking, "Are you still angry with me?"

"Well, Rach, I...the truth is that I don't know. Everything is like, really confusing and stuff right now and I want to forgive you and I think that maybe I have but sometimes I just get angry. I don't think it's you. I just...it's all very confusing."

She sniffles, "Well, I think that maybe we should talk about this in person. You've canceled a lot of plans with me recently and I think I have been very patient and understanding despite everything. All I'm asking for is a nice dinner and a conversation. Can you do that for me?"

He thinks for only a moment before he nods.

...And then he realizes that she can't actually see his nod so he clears his throat in embarrassment and speaks, "Uh, yeah, Rachel. I would, I would like that."

"Tomorrow?"

He's about to say yes and then he realizes that he already has plans. Plans that he is really looking forward to, "Uh, I'm actually busy tomorrow. I'm totally free Sunday though."

"What are you doing tomorrow? Going to Mr. Schue's?" She can't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Yeah, uh, well, no. We're going over there but we're going to a movie. Isn't that great? He's actually going to go out in public for the first time! This is really big, Rach. He's..."

She interrupts him, "Who is 'we'? Who's going?"

"Oh, uh...you know – Puck, Kurt, Quinn, and Me. And Coach Sylvester. And Mercedes, I think. And Santana."

She has to bite her lip to stop herself from crying, "Uh-huh. Well, Finn, I'll call you tomorrow night and I expect to have that dinner on Sunday. I love you."

"Yeah, you too, Rach." He hangs up quickly to avoid hurting her feelings again.

* … * … * … * … *

It's about an hour later when Rachel realizes that she has come up with the perfect plan to help Mr. Schue (at least a little) _and_ to win Finn back.

She adjusts the volume on her iPod and smiles as she walks into the grocery store.

She had this same plan nearly a year ago – back when she had that embarrassing crush on the Glee Coach. A way to any man's heart is through his stomach and while she doesn't think Mr. Schue is angry with her, she thinks that maybe she can find favor from him with her perfectly blended tomato sauce.

It wouldn't hurt anyway.

He'll be out with Finn tomorrow. She'll have time to get to his apartment and cook – enough for everyone. They'll come back and her dinner will be waiting for them.

It'll be perfect...even if she has to use the copy of his key that Finn doesn't know she has. The copy she made when she stole the key from Coach Sylvester's desk last month. If her dinner is perfect enough, he won't care how she got into the apartment.

After she has loaded her basket with the proper ingredients, she browses the cleaning product aisle. She doesn't want to leave his kitchen a mess after she's cooked and since he's apparently had the flu, it wouldn't hurt to disinfect.

She picks out a few bottles – Windex, Lysol, and a lemon-scented disinfectant, and then pays for everything with her father's credit card.

One more day and she'll have her friends back. Her favorite teacher back.

She'll have Finn back.

One more day and she'll have her life back.


End file.
